TO BE, TO KNOW WHATE'ER OF GOOD TO MAN BELOW IS GIVEN:-(JOHN STERLING)

But the ivy's freshest hue

Wreathes in green each mouldering tower;
And where cannon wont to lower,
There the wild ash struggles through.
So of old the war-worn knight,

His manhood spent in toil and fight,
March, and siege, and ambuscade,
Joust, and foray, and crusade,

Unlaced the helm his brows had borne
Through half an age in peril's scorn,
And bade the daughter of his love
In earliest summer's breezy hours

Crown his white locks with dew-fed flowers,
And green bowers of the grove.

* A medieval military machine, resembling the balista, and used for the propulsion of large and heavy missiles.

MORE HIGH WAS HIS DESIRE :-(sterling)

429

AND, ASKING TRUTH AS DAILY FOOD, SEEK LITTLE MORE FROM HEAVEN."-STERLING.

"STILL HOPE! STILL ACT! BE SURE THAT LIFE, THE SOURCE AND STRENGTH OF EVERY GOOD,

'Tis peaceful all; and he who ne'er

Had heard its destiny and tale,
Nor knew that serfs of old grew pale
To see their tyrant baron's lair,

That death has held his carnival

While armies mustered round its wall,*
And that through many a month's long round
A despot here his dungeon found,—†
Were these untold, we well might deem
The ruined fortress but a dream,
Shaped from the morning mists that veil
The weary stars, retreating pale;

Or clouds that float, half shade, half gleam,
In the round moon's wavering beam;
Or from the vapours delicate
That gird the sunset's glorious state;
Or from out that airier woof,
Visioned far from earth aloof,
Where the heart creates a sphere
Than this clay-built orb more dear,
And amid the ethereal dome
Makes a loved ideal home.

[From Sterling's "Prose and Poetical Works."]

* This is a poetical exaggeration. Carisbrook was once besieged by the French, and once by the Newport train-bands; but on neither occasion did the besieging force deserve the appellation of "an army."

† A reference, of course, to Charles the First's imprisonment, in 1648.

BY THEE LET OTHERS NOBLIER LIVE."-JOHN STERLING.

WASTES DOWN IN FEELING'S EMPTY STRIFE, and dies in DREAMING'S SICKLY MOOD."-sterling.

"REFRAIN YOUR LIPS, LEST WORDS TURN SNAKES, AND BITE YOU UTTERING THEM."-SWINBURNE.

66

NIGHT, A BLACK HOUND, FOLLOWS THE WHITE FAWN, DAY,—(SWINBURNE)

THE DEATH OF CHASTELARD.

431

Algernon Charles Swinburne.

[THIS powerful but irregular poet has already accomplished much for one so young, and might have accomplished more had he sought for his songs a purer inspiration, and cultivated the gift of reverence and faith. He was born at Holmwood, near Henley-on-Thames, in 1843; and educated, first in France, afterwards at Eton and Oxford. His first productions were two plays, published in 1861, The Queen-Mother" and "Rosamond;" but he did not gain the ear of the public until 1864, when he displayed his wonderful mastery of rich and animated diction and his opulence of imagery in the classical tragedy-poem of "Atalanta in Calydon." This was followed by the tragedy of "Chastelard" in 1865, and "Poems and Ballads” in 1866-the latter not unjustly provoking much adverse criticism. Songs before Sunrise" appeared in 1870.

"At a first glance," says an eminent critic, "nothing is more striking in Mr. Swinburne's works than the combination which they exhibit, always rare, never rarer than in our day, of dramatic power with lyrical power. Such a union of forces indeed argues the existence of an imagination subtle and strong, both on the objective and subjective side. As far as regards the dramatic faculty, “Atalanta" and "Chastelard" are equally proofs of what Mr. Swinburne can achieve; while the choruses in the former, though scarcely adequate representations of the Greek ideal, are fine lyrics in themselves. Whatever material form he may employ, he manifests his power of varied and delicate music. Every rhythm he makes his own, and forces from it a peculiar ring and melody, when once appreciated, never to be mistaken, never to be discovered in the most harmonious verses of other poets. . . .

"It would be premature to attempt an estimate of the influence which Mr. Swinburne will exercise upon the popular mind and the literature of his country. Whether that influence shall be deep, wholesome, and abiding, or superficial, evanescent, and perhaps hurtful, will depend upon his personal strength of character. It is not to be questioned that he is eminently gifted as a poet with power, but power may be wasted in application, or unworthily applied. If he has earnestly at heart the attainment of artistic perfection, if thereby he desires to touch the higher nature of his fellows, and to take a permanent place in English literature, he will not fail through any natural incompetency."-Westminster Review, No. Ixii.]

THE DEATH OF CHASTELARD.

[Chastelard, a French poet in the train of Mary Queen of Scots, was arrested on a charge of high treason, for presuming to love his royal misHe was found guilty, and expiated his supposed crime on the scaf

tress.

SWIFTER THAN DREAMS THE WHITE-FLOWN FEET OF SLEEP."-SWINBURNE.

"WORDS DIVIDE AND REND; AND SILENCE IS MOST NOBLE TILL THE END."-ALGERNON C. SWINBURNE.

"LOVE IS AN EVIL THING, AND TURNS CHOICE WORDS AND WISDOM INTO FIRE AND AIR."-SWINBURNE.

432

"FOR A JUST DEED LOOKS ALWAY EITHER WAY-(SWINBURNE)

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

fold. In the following scene, the details of his execution are witnessed by
Mary Carmichael, seated at a window in Holyrood Palace, and by her
described to Mary Beaton.]

Mary B.
Mary C.

O you see nothing?

Nay, but swarms of men
And talking women gathered in small space,

Flapping their gowns and gaping with fools' eyes:
And a thin ring round one that seems to speak,
Holding his hands out eagerly; no more.
Why, I hear more, I hear men shout, The queen.
Mary C. Nay, no cries yet.
Mary B.

Mary B.

Mary C.

Mary B.

Mary C.

Ah, they will cry out soon
When she comes forth; they should cry out on her;
I hear their crying in my heart. Nay, sweet,
Do not you hate her? all men, if God please,
Shall hate her one day; yea, one day no doubt
I shall worse hate her.

Pray you, be at peace;

You hurt yourself: she will be merciful;
What, could you see a true man slain for you?

I think I could not; it is not like our hearts
To have such hard sides to them.

Oh, not you,

And I could nowise; there's some blood in her

That does not run to mercy as ours doth:

That fair face and the cursed heart in her
Made keener than a knife for manslaying
Can bear strange things.

Peace, for the people come.

Ah-Murray,* hooded over half his face

With plucked-down hat, few folk about him, eyes
Like a man angered; Darnley† after him,

* The Earl of Murray, half-brother to Mary Queen of Scots.
Henry Lord Darnley, afterwards married to Queen Mary.

WITH BLAMELESS EYES, AND MERCY IS NO FAULT."-SWINBurne.

"ONE CHOICE WE HAVE,-TO LIVE, AND DO JUST DEEDS, AND DIE."-ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

"FOR NOT THE DIFFERENCE OF THE SEVERAL FLESH BEING VILE, OR NOBLE, OR BEAUTIFUL, OR BASE,-(SWINBURNE)

"PRAISE BE WITH MEN ABROAD; CHASTE LIVES WITH US,

THE DEATH OF CHASTELARD.

433

Holding our Hamilton* above her wrist,
His mouth put near her hair to whisper with-

And she laughs softly, looking at his feet.
Mary B. She will not live long; God hath given her

Few days and evil, full of hate and love,

I see well now.

Mary C. Hark, there's their cry- The queen!

Fair life and long, and good days to the queen!
Mary B. Yea, but God knows. I feel such patience here
As I were sure in a brief while to die.

Mary C. She bends, and laughs a little, graciously,

Mary B.

And turns half, talking to I know not whom
A big man with great shoulders; † ah, the face,
You get his face now-wide and duskish, yea,
The youth burnt out of it. A goodly man,
Thewed mightily and sunburnt to the bone;

Doubtless he was away in banishment,
Or kept some march far off.

Still you see nothing?

Mary C. Yea, now they bring him forth with a great noise,

Mary B.

The folk all shouting and men thrust about
Each way from him.

Ah, Lord God, bear with me,
Help me to bear a little with my love

For thine own love, or give me some quick death.
Do not come down; I shall get strength again,
Only my breath fails. Looks he sad or blithe?

Not sad I doubt yet.

Mary C.

Nay, not sad a whit,

But like a man who, losing gold or lands,

Should lose a heavy sorrow; his face set,

* Mary Hamilton, one of the queen's attendants called, from their Christian names, "The Four Marys."

+ Earl of Bothwell.

HOME-KEEPING DAYS AND HOUSEHOLD REVERENCES."-SWINBURNE.

MAKES PRAISEWORTHY, BUT PURER SPIRIT AND HEART, HIGHER THAN THESE MEANER MOUTHS AND LIMBS."-SWINBURNE.