Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Late, late in a gloamin when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,
The wood was sere, the moon i' the wane,
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain,
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane;
When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme,
Late, late in the gloamin Kilmeny came hame!

"Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?
Lang hae we sought baith holt and den;
By linn, by ford, and green-wood tree,
Yet you are halesome and fair to see.
Where gat you that joup o' the lily scheen?
That bonny snood of the birk sae green?
And these roses, the fairest that ever were seen?
Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?"

Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace,
But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face;
As still was her look, and as still was her ee,
As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea,
Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea.
For Kilmeny had been she knew not where,
And Kilmeny had seen what she could not de-

clare;

Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, Where the rain never fell, and the wind never

blew;

But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung,

Lang have I journeyed the world wide,
A meek and reverent fere replied;
Baith night and day I have watched the fair,
Eident a thousand years and mair.
Yes, I have watched o'er ilk degree,
Wherever blooms femenitye;
But sinless virgin, free of stain
In mind and body, fand I nane.
Never, since the banquet of time,
Found I a virgin in her prime,
Till late this bonny maiden I saw
As spotless as the morning-snaw:
Full twenty years she has lived as free
As the spirits that sojourn this countrye:
I have brought her away frae the snares of men,
That sin or death she never may ken.

They clasped her waist and her hands sae fair,
They kissed her cheek, and they kemed her hair
And round came many a blooming fere,
Saying: Bonny Kilmeny, ye're welcome here!
Women are freed of the littand scorn:
O, blessed be the day Kilmeny was born!
Now shall the land of the spirits see,
Now shall it ken what a woman may be!
Many a lang year in sorrow and pain,
Many a lang year through the world we've gane,
Commissioned to watch fair womankind,
For it's they who nurice the immortal mind.

And the airs of heaven played round her tongue, We have watched their steps as the dawning

When she spake of the lovely forms she had

seen.

shone,

And deep in the green-wood walks alone;
By lily-bower and silken bed,

The viewless tears have o'er them shed;
Have soothed their ardent minds to sleep,
Or left the couch of love to weep.

We have seen! whe have seen! but the time must

And a land where sin had never been;
A land of love, and a land of night,
Withouten sun, or moon, or night:
Where the river swa'd a living stream,
And the light a pure celestial beam:
The land of vision it would seem,
A still, an everlasting dream.

come,

In yon green-wood there is a waik, And in that waik there is a wene, And in that wene there is a maike,

And the angels will weep at the day of doom! O, would the fairest of mortal kind

That neither has flesh, blood, nor bane:

Aye keep the holy truths in mind,
That kindred spirits their motions see,
Who watch their ways with anxious ee,

And down in yon green-wood he walks his lane. And grieve for the guilt of humanitye!

In that green wene Kilmeny lay,

Her bosom happed wi' the flowerets gay;
But the air was soft and the silence deep,
And bonny Kilmeny fell sound asleep.
She kend nae mair, nor opened her ee,
Till waked by the hymns of a far countrye.

She 'wakened on couch of the silk sae slim,
All striped wi' the bars of the rainbow's rim;
And lovely beings round were rife,

Who erst had travelled mortal life;
And aye they smiled, and 'gan to speer,

What spirit has brought this mortal here?

O, sweet to Heaven the maiden's prayer,
And the sigh that heaves a bosom sae fair!
And dear to Heaven the words of truth,
And the praise of virtue frae beauty's mouth!
And dear to the viewless forms of air,
The minds that kyth as the body fair!
O, bonny Kilmeny! free frae stain,
If ever you seek the world again,
That world of sin, of sorrow and fear,
O, tell of the joys that are waiting here;
And tell of the signs you shall shortly see
Of the times that are now, and the time that

[blocks in formation]

They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away,
And she walked in the light of a sunless day.
The sky was a dome of crystal bright,
The fountain of vision, and fountain of light:
The emerald fields were of dazzling glow,
And the flowers of everlasting blow.
Then deep in the stream her body they laid,
That her youth and beauty never might fade;

Far swifter than wind, or the linked flame. She hid her een frae the dazzling view; She looked again, and the scene was new.

She saw a sun on a summer-sky, And clouds of amber sailing bye; A lovely land beneath her lay,

And that land had glens and mountains gray;

And they smiled on heaven, when they saw And that land had valleys and hoary piles,

her lie

In the stream of life that wandered bye.
And she heard a song, she heard it sung,
She kend not where; but sae sweetly it rung,
It fell on her ear like a dream of the morn:
O! blest be the day Kilmeny was born!
Now shall the land of the spirits see,
Now shall it ken what a woman may be!
The sun that shines on the world sae bright,
A borrowed gleid frae the fountain of light;
And the moon that sleeks the sky sae dun,
Like a gouden bow, or a beamless sun,

Shall wear away, and be seen nae mair,

And marled seas, and a thousand isles;
Its fields were speckled, its forests green,
And its lakes were all of the dazzling sheen,
Like magic mirrors, where slumbering lay
The sun and the sky and the cloudlet gray;
Which heaved and trembled, and gently swung,
On every shore they seemed to be hung;
For there they were seen on their downward

plain

A thousand times and a thousand again;
In winding lake and placid firth,

Little peaceful heavens in the bosom of earth.

And the angels shall miss them travelling the air. Kilmeny sighed and seemed to grieve,

But lang, lang after baith night and day,

When the sun and the world have elyed away;

When the sinner has gane to his waesome doom, Kilmeny shall smile in eternal bloom!

They bore her away, she wist not how,

For she felt not arm nor rest below;

For she found her heart to that land did cleave;

She saw the corn wave on the vale,

She saw the deer run down the dale;

She saw the plaid and the broad claymore,

And the brows that the badge of freedom bore;

And she thought she had seen the land before.

But so swift they wained her through the light, She saw a lady sit on a throne,

'Twas like the motion of sound or sight;

They seemed to split the gales of air,
And yet nor gale nor breeze was there.
Unnumbered groves below them grew,
They came, they past, and backward flew,
Like floods of blossoms gliding on,
In moment seen, in moment gone.
0, never vales to mortal view
Appeared like those o'er which they flew!
That land to human spirits given,
The lowermost vales of the storied heaven;
From thence they can view the world below,
And heaven's blue gates with sapphires glow,
More glory yet unmeet to know.

They bore her far to a mountain green,
To see what mortal never had seen;
And they seated her high on a purple sward,
And bade her heed what she saw and heard,
And note the changes the spirits wrought,
For now she lived in the land of thought.
She looked, and she saw nor sun nor skies,
But a crystal dome of a thousand dies:
She looked, and she saw nae land aright,
But an endless whirl of glory and light:
And radiant beings went and came

The fairest that ever the sun shone on!

A lion licked her hand of milk,

And she held him in a leish of silk; And a leifu' maiden stood at her knee, With a silver wand and melting ee; Her sovereign shield till love stole in, And poisoned all the fount within.

Then a gruff untoward bedes-man came,
And hundit the lion on his dame;
And the guardian maid wi' the dauntless ee,
She dropped a tear, and left her knee;
And she saw till the queen frae the lion fled,
Till the bonniest flower of the world lay dead;
A coffin was set on a distant plain,

And she saw the red blood fall like rain:
Then bonny Kilmeny's heart grew sair,
And she turned away, and could look nae mair.
Then the gruff grim carle girned amain,
And they trampled him down, but he rose again;
And he baited the lion to deeds of weir,
Till he lapped the blood to the kingdom dear;
And weening his head was danger-preef,
When crowned with the rose and clover leaf,
He gowled at the carle, and chased him away
To feed wi' the deer on the mountain gray.

1

He gowled at the carle, and he gecked at Heaven, Late, late in a gloamin Kilmeny came hame!

But his mark was set, and his arles given.
Kilmeny a while her een withdrew;
She looked again, and the scene was new.

She saw below her fair unfurled
One half of all the glowing world,
Where oceans rolled, and rivers ran,
To bound the aims of sinful man.
She saw a people, fierce and fell,
Burst frae their bounds like fiends of hell;
There lilies grew and the eagle flew,
And she herked on her ravening crew,

Till the cities and towers were rapt in a blaze,
And the thunder it roared o'er the lands and the seas.
The widows they wailed, and the red blood ran,
And she threatened an end to the race of man:
She never lened, nor stood in awe,

Till claught by the lion's deadly paw.
Oh! then the eagle swinked for life,
And brainzelled up a mortal strife;
But flew she north, or flew she south,
She met wi' the gowl of the lion's mouth.
With a mooted wing and wacfu' maen,
The eagle sought her eiry again;
But lang may she cower in her bloody nest,
And lang, lang sleek her wounded breast,
Before she sey another flight,

To play wi' the norland lion's might.

But to sing the sights Kilmeny saw,
So far surpassing nature's law,

The singer's voice wad sink away,

And the string of his harp wad cease to play.
But she saw till the sorrows of man were bye,
And all was love and harmony;
Till the stars of heaven fell calmly away,
Like the flakes of snaw on a winter-day.

Then Kilmeny begged again to see

The friends she left in her own countrye,
To tell of the place where she had been,
And the glories that lay in the land unseen;
To warn the living maidens fair,

The loved of Heaven, the spirits' care,
That all whose minds unmeled remain
Shall bloom in beauty when time is gane.

With distant music, soft and deep,

They lulled Kilmeny sound asleep;

And when she awakened, she lay her lane,

And O, her beauty was fair to see,
But still and steadfast was her ee!
Such beauty bard may never declare,
For there was no pride nor passion there;
And the soft desire of maiden's een
In that mild face could never be seen.
Her seymar was the lily flower,
And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower;
And her voice like the distant melodye,
That floats along the twilight-sea.
But she loved to raike the lanely glen,
And keeped afar frae the haunts of men;
Her holy hymns unheard to sing,
To suck the flowers, and drink the spring.
But wherever her peaceful form appeared,
The wild beasts of the hill were cheered;
The wolf played blythly round the field,
The lordly byson lowed and kneeled;
The dun deer wooed with manner bland,
And cowered aneath her lily hand.
And when at even the woodlands rung,
When hymns of other worlds she sung
In ecstasy of sweet devotion,

O, then the glen was all in motion!
The wild beasts of the forest came,
Broke from their bughts and faulds the tame,
And goved around, charmed and amazed;
Even the dull cattle crooned and gazed,
And murmured and looked with anxious pain
For something the mystery to explain.
The buzzard came with the throstle-cock;
The corby left her houf in the rock;
The blackbird alang wi' the eagle flew;
The hind came tripping o'er the dew;
The wolf and the kid their raike began,
And the tod, and the lamb, and the leveret ran;
The hawk and the hern attour them hung,
And the merl and the mavis forhooyed their

young;

And all in a peaceful ring were hurled: It was like an eve in a sinless world!

When a month and a day had come and gane, Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene;

There laid her down on the leaves sae green, And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen. But oh, the words that fell from her mouth, Were words of wonder, and words of truth! But all the land were in fear and dread,

It wasna her hame, and she couldna remain,
She left this world of sorrow and pain,
And returned to the land of thought again.

All happed with flowers in the green-wood wene. For they kendna whether she was living or dead. Hemans.

When seven lang years had come and fled;

When grief was calm, and hope was dead;

When scarce was remembered Kilmeny's name,

Felicia Dorothea Browne, später verehelichte Hemans ward 1794 in Liverpool geboren, zog dann mit ihren Eltern nach St. Asaph in Nordwales und verheirathete sich sehr früh mit einem Capitain Hemans, aber ihre Ehe war keine glückliche und wurde später nach gegenseitiger Uebereinkunft wieder getrennt. Sie zog nun nach Wavertree bei Liverpool, dann nach Dublin, wo sie

am 16. Mai 1835 starb.

Ihre Dichtungen, mit wenigen Ausnahmen, fast sämmtlich zur lyrischen Gattung gehörend (Early Blossoms; Domestic Affections; National Lyrics; Scenes and Hymns of Life u. s. w., so lauten die Titel der verschiedenen Sammlungen, welche sie nach einander erscheinen liess), zeichnen sich durch sanfte Empfindung, innige Frömmigkeit, Anmuth, Geist, Phantasie und treffliche Sprache sehr vortheilhaft aus und haben ihr ein dauerndes Andenken bei ihrer Nation, namentlich bei den englischen Frauen erworben.

[blocks in formation]

On the flushed brows of conquerors have been set; With all my gifts: for every flower, sweet

[blocks in formation]

I come with peace; I shed I, that shower dewy light Sleep through thy wood-walks o'er the honey-bee, Through slumbering leaves, bring storms! - the The lark's triumphant voice, the fawn's young glee,

The hyacinth's meek head.

tempest birth Of memory, thought, remorse: be holy, Earth!

I am the solemn Night!

On my own heart I lay

The weary babe, and, sealing with a breath
Its eyes of love, send fairy dreams, beneath
The shadowing lids to play.

I come with mightier things!

Who calls me silent? I have many tones:
The dark skies thrill with low mysterious moans
Borne on my sweeping wings.

I waft them not alone

The Hebrew Mother.

The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain,
When a young mother, with her firstborn, thence
Went up to Zion; for the boy was vowed
Unto the temple service. By the hand
She led him; and her silent soul, the while,
Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye
Met her sweet serious glance, rejoiced to think

From the deep organ of the forest shades,
Or buried streams, unheard amidst their glades, That aught so pure, so beautiful, was her's,
Till the bright day is done.

But in the human breast

To bring before her God!

So passed they on, O'er Judah's hills; and wheresoe'er the leaves Of the broad sycamore made sounds at noon,

A thousand still small voices I awake,
Strong in their sweetness from the soul to shake Like lulling rain-drops, or the olive boughs,

The mantle of its rest.

I bring them from the past:
From true hearts broken, gentle spirits torn,
From crush'd affections, which, though long
o'erborne,

Make their tone heard at last.

I bring them from the tomb;

O'er the sad couch of late repentant love,
They pass though low as murmurs of a

dove

Like trumpets through the gloom.

I come with all my train:

Who calls me lonely? Hosts around me tread,
Th' intensely bright, the beautiful, the dread
Phantoms of heart and brain!

Looks from departed eyes,

These are my lightnings!

[blocks in formation]

The crimson deepening o'er his cheeks' repose,
As at a red flower's heart; and where a fount
Lay, like a twilight star, 'midst palmy shades,
Making its banks green gems along the wild,
There, too, she lingered, from the diamond wave
Drawing clear water for his rosy lips,
And softly parting clusters of jet curls
To bathe his brow.

At last the fane was reached,
The earth's one sanctuary; and rapture hushed
Her bosom, as before her, through the day
It rose, a mountain of white marble, steeped
In light like floating gold. But when that hour
Waned to the farewell moment, when the boy
Lifted, through rainbow-gleaming tears, his eye
Beseechingly to her's, and, half in fear,

filled with anguish Turned from the white-robed priest, and round

vain,

Or tenderness too piercing to sustain,
They smite with agonies.

I, that with soft control

Shut the dim violet, hush the woodland song,
I am th' Avenging One!

The searcher of the soul!

her arm

Clung, even as ivy clings, the deep spring-tide
Of nature then swelled high; and o'er her child
Bending, her soul brake forth, in mingled sounds
Of weeping and sad song. "Alas!" she cried,

the armed, the "Alas! my boy! thy gentle grasp is on me,
strong,

The bright tears quiver in thy pleading eyes,
And now fond thoughts arise,

« ZurückWeiter »