R. Williams Buchanan - Mordred lyrics

PART THE FIRST. "FAREWELL! farewell!" I softly sigh'd; Clear as a bell Her voice replied: The boughs closed round, with whispering wind dropt low, And it was eventide. While dim and gray Dropt down the night, Her fair face lay, Snow-cold, snow-white, Close to my heart, and, sparkling on her tears, Glimmer'd a pale starlight. Under the shade Of Arthur's Towers, Within a glade Of garden bowers, We linger'd, heart to heart, and the cool air Was sweet with scent of flowers. In sweet unrest, Forlorn and weak, Upon my breast She leant her cheek, Whispering lowly, "Whither dost thou go?" I frown'd, and did not speak: For blushful shame And coward dread, A face like flame, A heart like lead, Oppress'd me, and I shudder'd to behold The faith from which I fled. I could not dare To tell a thing So sweet, so fair, So suffering, That a dark demon urged me on to join Against the blameless king; That, spite of shame And shame's award, A blacken'd name, A recreant sword, My soul had leagued with Lancelot's red powers Against my sovereign lord. Than falsehood she Was fairer far,— Fairer to me Than spirits are; And on the tumbled waters of my life She glimmer'd like a star. But like a cloud Rose, far away, The dark and proud Rebel array, And over bloody graves to Camelot It redden'd day by day. And I was drawn, As by a chain, By stealth to pawn Body and brain, Turn traitor to my liege, and to a love Sweet and without a stain. Her beauty chid My shame and fear: How could I bid A thing so dear Fly from her loyal sweetness, peace, and truth, For falsehood sad and sere? "Farewell!" I cried, With heart wrung dry,— The black wind sigh'd Mournfully by. And "When wilt thou return?" she whisper'd low— I answer'd with a lie. With lips like ice, And pulses hot, I kiss'd her thrice, And waited not, But tore myself away, and through deep night Rode swift from Camelot. By gleaming Usk Fell branches green, And through the dusk, In silver sheen, I saw the river glimmer to the hills, With Arthur's Towers between. And salt, salt tears Flash'd large and fell, And in mine ears "Farewell! farewell!" Rang as a voice from some diviner life, And warn'd me like a knell. But blind to sight, To feeling dead, Along the night Swiftly I fled, Till on the ledges of the hills I saw The rebel watch-fires red. PART THE SECOND. Through summer leas, Yellow with gold, 'Neath shady trees, The river roll'd, And on its rush-fringed banks to Camelot Came lances manifold. With fire and sword We swept along, A traitor horde, A warlike throng, And in our track the many hamlets mourn'd, For rapine, blood, and wrong. Fairest of all And sinfullest, Towering tall Above the rest, Upon a coal-black steed rode Lancelot, In sombre armour drest; With form that stoop'd, And unkempt beard, A brow that droop'd O'er lips that sneer'd,— But the mere meekness of his henchman's eye Seem'd something that he fear'd. Forward we rode 'Neath branches green, By Usk that flow'd In silver sheen, Until the river glimmer'd to the hills, With Arthur's Towers between. The dewy mist Of morn upwound; And ere we wist, A trumpet sound Spake like a human cry; and, lo, the boughs Grew populous around. And loudly then Arose the shout Of armèd men And henchmen stout, Who sprang upon us like a storm, and whirl'd Rude swords around about. But swift as wind We struggled through, And left behind That hireling crew; While, turning at a cry, our meanest horse Assail'd them, and they flew. When brightly o'er us The morning flush'd, And far before us, To meet us, rush'd The flower of loyal steedsmen—Lancelot Gript his great sword, but blush'd. The greenwood rang Again, again, Till with a clang, On the green plain, We struck the foe, with hoofs that sparkled fire, And blows that fell like rain. The shrill d**h-cry Arose aloud. Tumultuously, In a pale cloud Of fiery dust, we eddied to and fro— A fierce and shrieking crowd. With deafen'd ears, And blood-blurr'd sight, Amid my peers I strove in fight, Till, hurl'd apart, I singled out for d**h A strange and visor'd knight. For, in a place Removed, we came Full face to face With hearts of flame, And through his mask of mail he breathed in scorn My loyal lady's name. Then "Yield!" I cried, With wrath grown higher; But he defied My murderous ire:— I made a burning circle of my sword, And smote him down in fire! With his red brand His helm I clove, And, sword in hand, I strode above His breast, and drew his visor down—and lo! My loyal lady-love! Pale as the moon On Snowdon's crest, In a cold swoon She lay at rest; And as I loosed her helm, her yellow hair Fell, blood-stain'd, on her breast. Then, with low sighs, Quick breath she drew, And, opening eyes Of fading blue, She look'd upon me; and I moan'd aloud With heart as weak as dew. Her pale lips stirr'd Without a sound; Without a word She gazed around; And then she smiled, as only Love can smile When Love is blest and crown'd! And with a shriek I raised her head; And, cold and meek, Apparellèd In the new mystery of diviner life, She moan'd, and softly said,— "From sorrow past Come peace and gain; And, love, at last, We meet again.— I die, content with this poor blood to show Your honour its one stain. "For when you fled With shame-flush'd face, To honour dead, And dead to grace, I arm'd my woman's limbs at dead of night And rose and took your place. "Wherefore, in ruth, I pay for thee The love, the truth, The loyalty Which wait on noble deeds, and which you owed To Heaven, the King, and me! "To sweeter climes Of love I fly; Sweet music chimes Through earth and sky.— O Mordred, take me softly in your arms, And kiss me ere I die! "Farewell! farewell!" She softly sigh'd; And, like a knell, My heart replied. Then, in her eyes, I broke my sword in twain, And kiss'd her, and she died.