William and Helen by Walter Scott

From heavy dreams fair Helen roseAnd ey'd the dawning red:"Alas, my love, thou tarriest long;O, art thou false or dead?"

With gallant Fred'rick's princely powerHe sought the bold crusade;But not a word from Judah's warsTold Helen how he sped.

With Paynim and with SaracenAt length a truce was made,And ev'ry knight return'd to dryThe tears his love had shed.

Our gallant host was homeward boundWith many a song of joy;Green wav'd the laurel in each plume,The badge of victory.

And old and young, and sire and son,To meet them crowd the way.With shouts, and mirth, and melody,The debt of love to pay.

Full many a maid her true love met,And sobb'd in his embrace,And flutt'ring joy in tears and smilesArray'd full many a face.

Nor joy nor smile for Helen sad;She sought the host in vain;For none could tell her William's fate,If faithless, or if slain.

The martial band is passed and gone;She rends her raven hair,And in distraction's bitter moodShe weeps with wild despair.

"O rise, my child," her mother said,Nor sorrow thus in vain;A perjur'd lover's fleeting heartNo tears recall again."

"O mother, what is gone, is gone,What's lost, for ever lorn:Death, death alone can comfort me;O had I ne'er been born!

"O break, my heart, O break at once!Drink my life-blood, Despair.No joy remains on earth for me,For me in heaven no share."

"O enter not in judgment, Lord!"The pious mother prays;"Impute not guilt to thy frail child!She knows not what she says.

"O say thy pater noster, child!O turn to God and grace!His will that turn'd thy bliss to baleCan change thy bale to bliss."

"O mother, mother! what is bliss?O mother, what is bale?My William's love was heaven on earth,Without it earth is hell.

"Why should I pray to ruthless Heav'n,Since my lov'd William's slain?I only pray'd for William's sake,And all my pray'rs were vain."

"O take the sacrament, my child,And check these tears that flow;By resignation's humble pray'r,O hallow'd be thy woe;"

"No sacrament can quench this fire,Or slake this scorching pain:No sacrament can bid the deadArise and live again.

"O break, my heart, O break at once!Be thou my god, despair!Heav'ns heaviest blow has fall'n on me,And vain each fruitless pray'r."

"O enter not in judgment, Lord,With thy frail child of clay;She knows not what her tongue has spoke;Impute it not, I pray!

"Forbear, my child, this desp'rate woe,And turn to God and grace;Well can devotion's heav'nly glowConvert thy bale to bliss."

"O mother, mother, what is bliss?O mother, what is bale?Without my William what were heav'n,Or with him what were hell?"

Wild she arraigns the eternal doom,Upbraids each sacred pow'r,Till spent, she sought her silent roomAll in the lonely tower.

She beat her breast, she wrung her hands,Till sun and day were o'er,And through the glimm'ring lattice shoneThe twinkling of the star.

Then crash! the heavy draw-bridge fell,That o'er the moat was hung;And clatter! clatter! on its boardsThe hoof of courser rung.

The clank of echoing steel was heardAs off the rider bounded;And slowly on the winding stairA heavy footstep sounded.

And hark! and hark! a knock—Tap! tap!A rustling stifled noise:—Doorlatch and tinkling staples ring;—At length a whisp'ring voice.

"Awake, awake, arise my love!How, Helen, dost thou fare?Wak'st thou, or sleep'st? laught'st thou, or weep'st?Hast thought on me, my fair?"

"My love! my love!—so late by night!—I wak'd, I wept for thee;Much have I borne since dawn of morn:—Where, William, could'st thou be?"

"We saddled late—From HungaryI rode since darkness fell;And to its bourne we both returnBefore the matin bell."

"O rest this night within my arms,And warm thee in their fold!Chill howls through hawthorn bush the wind;—My love is deadly cold."

"Let the wind howl through hawthorn bush!This night we must away;The steed is wight, the spur is bright;I cannot stay till day.

"Busk, busk, and boune! Thou mount'st behindUpon my black barb steed:O'er stock and stile, a hundred miles,We haste to bridal bed."

"To-night—to-night a hundred miles;—O dearest William, stay!The bell strikes twelve—dark, dismal hour!O wait, my love, till day!"

"Look here, look here—the moon shines clear—Full fast I ween we ride;Mount and away! for ere the dayWe reach our bridal bed.

"The black barb snorts, the bridle rings;Haste, busk, and boune, and seat thee!The feast is made, the chamber spread,The bridal guests await thee."

Strong love prevail'd: She busks, she bouns,She mounts the barb behind,And round her darling William's waistHer lily arms she twin'd.

And hurry! hurry! off they rode,As fast as fast might be;Spurn'd from the courser's thundering heelsThe flashing pebbles flee.

And on the right, and on the left,Ere they could snatch a view,Fast, fast each mountain, mead and plain,And cot and castle flew.

"Sit fast—dost fear?—The moon shines clear—Fleet rides my barb—keep hold!Fear'st thou?"—"O no!" she faintly said;"But why so stern and cold?

What yonder rings? what yonder sings?Why shrieks the owlet gray?""'Tis death bells' clang, 'tis funeral song,The body to the clay.

"With song and clang, at morrow's dawn,Ye may inter the dead:To-night I ride, with my young bride,To deck our bridal bed.

"Come with thy choir, thou coffin'd guest,To swell our nuptial song!Come priest, to bless our marriage feast!Come all, come all along!"

Ceas'd clang and song; down sunk the bier;The shrouded corpse arose:And hurry, hurry! all the trainThe thund'ring steed pursues.

And forward; forward! on they go;High snorts the straining steed;Thick pants the rider's labouring breath,As headlong on they speed.

"O William, why this savage haste?And where thy bridal bed?"" 'Tis distant far."—"Still short and stern?""'Tis narrow, trustless maid."

"No room for me?"—"Enough for both;—Speed, speed, my Barb, thy course;"O'er thund'ring bridge, through boiling surge,He drove the furious horse.

Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode,Splash! Splash! along the sea;The steed is wight, the spur is bright,The flashing pebbles flee.

Fled past on right and left how fastEach forest, grove, and bower;On right and left fled past how fastEach city, town, and tower.

"Dost fear? dost fear?—The moon shines clear;Dost fear to ride with me?—Hurrah! hurrah! The dead can ride!""O William, let them be!

"See there, see there! What yonder swingsAnd creaks 'mid whistling rain?""Gibbet and steel, th' accursed wheel;A murd'rer and his chain.

"Hollo! thou felon, follow here:To bridal bed we ride;And thou shalt prance a fetter danceBefore me and my bride."

And hurry, hurry; clash, clash, clash!The wasted form descends;And fleet as wind through hazel-bushThe wild career attends.

Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode,Splash! splash! along the sea;The scourge is red, the spur drops blood,The flashing pebbles flee.

How fled what moonshine faintly show'd!How fled what darkness hid!How fled the earth beneath their feet!The heav'n above their head!

"Dost fear? dost fear?—The moon shines clear,And well the dead can ride;Does faithful Helen fear for them?""O leave in peace the dead!"

"Barb! barb! methinks I hear the cock;The sand will soon be run:Barb! barb! I smell the morning air;The race is well nigh done."

Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode,Splash! splash! along the sea;The scourge is red, the spur drops blood,The flashing pebbles flee.

"Hurrah! hurrah! well ride the dead;The bride, the bride is come!And soon we reach the bridal bed,For, Helen, here's my home."

Reluctant on its rusty hingeRevolv'd an iron door,And by the pale moon's setting beamWere seen a church and tow'r.

With many a shriek and cry whiz roundThe birds of midnight, scared;And rustling like autumnal leavesUnhallow'd ghosts were heard.

O'er many a tomb and tomb-stone paleHe spurr'd the fiery horse,Till sudden at an open graveHe check'd the wondrous course.

The falling gauntlet quits the rein,Down drops the casque of steel,The cuirass leaves his shrinking side,The spur his gory heel.

The eyes desert the naked skull,The mould'ring flesh the bone,Till Helen's lily arms entwineA ghastly skeleton.

The furious barb snorts fire and foam;And with a fearful boundDissolves at once in empty air,And leaves her on the ground.

Half seen by fits, by fits half heard,Pale spectres fleet along;Wheel round the maid in dismal dance,And howl the fun'ral song:

"E'en when the heart 's with anguish cleft,Revere the doom of Heav'n.Her soul is from her body reft;Her spirit be forgiv'n."