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And in my soul a calm delight keeps house , Hanging its chambers like a white-stoled babe : As if no jarring of the ill-fitting world , Or tyranny of petty circumstance , Could ever more invade me : and those thoughts Brooding imagination doth invent , Of perfect harmony and bliss unstained , "Were real , and the dusty time-worn world Hidden in second spring-time . Can it be , That these soft sp irits m make apes of us , And , while we nourish sweet content at home , have heard
Calamity strike abroad ? As I "What ' s that ?—Is't true that spirits ride the wind ? Most melancholy ones then . Hark , again ! The sound of weeping—making awful pauses Of the short hushes of the storm—who sighs Against my threshold ? My warm blood runs cold , And gathers at my heaxt . What , am I mad > Let ' s see what may be seen . [ Goes out and returns . The empty dark , Wherein no star doth pi erce the thick eclipse , But all is shrouded in a watery veil . Again ! again ! That ' s human ! Who goes there ?
[ Exit . Jtttwms , carrying Violmsia . She throws herself on her face before him . Eth . Violenzia ! Vio . Oh , hide me ! Oh , my misery 1 JEth . What art thou , that thus bred of sudden night Shakeet my knees with sobbing ? Stand ! stand up ! Vio . Lay not thy hand upon me ! JEth , In my breast Strange thoughts take substance , and begin to shake My soul ' s foundation . —Thou—thou—art not?—« Speak ! Vio . I am !—I am !~ The King !—Etk . Away ! away ! Hell hath no words for it . Vio . Alas ! alas ! alas !
Eth . By heaven , 'tis midnight , and the lunatic moon Peeps through my tent-holes . Art thou the thing that thou pretend ' st to be , Or some accursed midnight wandering ghost , Come to afflict me ? With my bright sword ' s point I'll try thy substance . Vio . Mercy ! oh , have mercy ! JS ( h , Where's mercy , since she hath forsook the heavens ?
Who guides ? who guides the terrible machine ? O Violenzia , take back thy words , And make me subject to a false alarm , Or with my sword I'll break these gates of life That shut in living death . [ Pointing the sword against himself . Vio . Alas ! alas ! Eth . I dream !—I dream ! It is not yet near day . ( A long pause . ) Vio . Speak , speak to me ! Eth . Say ' st thou ? Stand up , I say ! Why beat ' st thou with thy forehead on the ground ? This is no shame ; this is our misery . Lift up again that streaming face of thine " VVet with unutterable woe . Look up ! Vio . Touch me not , Ethel ! Oh , your touch is fire ! And burns my abhorred miserable flesh . Hoav shall I break these walls , or how get free ? I am cased in such pollution as makes sick My soul within me . Oh , that these my tears Could quite dissolve my substance ; and the ground Soak up my detested being . Would 1 were dead ! Woqld I were dead ! were dead ! Eth . Peace ! shaken child ! Control the greatness of your agony . Alan , I cannot . My perturbed soul , Like an imprisoned mist , doth shake and wave ,
And I perceive no light . Vio . To doubt my truth ! Oh it was base in you ! Nuy ! to make surety So strong that you dare call me vile . Ay , now ! Now call me vile , —it suits , —now call mo stained ! Heap epithets upon me , none bo foul As can express my misery : but then—I w » h as clear as daylight , Eth . Alas ! what mean you ? Vio . Your letter ! Oh , your letter ! Did you not write it ? O most egregious fool ! lie did not write it . Eth . Nothing but love ; what did you got from me ? Vio . O me , 1 nothing know ; only 1 think The hoftvon ahove's unroofed , and there ' s no bar AffaiiiBt the powers of evil .
Eth . () be patient ! Go in with me . 1 hear friends . Vio . Where ? () where ? Hide me ! Sweet Kthel , let me not be neen . [ Exit . TimkI < and Vioi . knzia into < iu inner room . Enter Oi-avu and (" ounkuun . 01 . Do you boli « ve it ? why , man , let me tell you , I , that did never more than onoe enjoy The touch of her frank hand ; that , in such eoxirtesy An ono , till then a stranger , might exact ; And never more than once looked on her face , A garden where tho flowers of beauty sprang , Troubling the wen . se with richness ; never hut once Took through the dazzled windows of my soul Her proud and innocent gaze ; I that not knew her , And of her musical speech heard no more tones
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Than go to make a greeting ; I'll believe Rather the diamond should fade and rot , Than she be turned to folly . Cor . Be it so . And were it otherwise , I was a fool To seek to make him think so . But this message Puts it beyond dispute—whether b y force , Or slipped by inclination , she is ruined . This he must know that all the world now knows . 01 . Ay , or he'll hear it coarsely . Enter Ethel . Oh Look ! he knows it ! Eth . Good morrow , friends . Give me your hands . Let ' s see—This should be Olave , this Cornelius . Hath any deadly mischief come to you ?
You shake your heads . No plague-star stands l the sky , And rains disease ? I know it is not so ; No earthquake gapes . I know—I know it , I Open the door . The jolly sun mounts up , Why should he stain his glittering cheeks with tears ? 0 dewy grass ! O voice of birds 1 O friends ! Look , I can smile too , but within me here , Ay , in my heart , there ' s fire—there ' s fire—there ' s fire ! Cor . O piteous voice ! Ol . W ill you not cut his heart out ? Eth . Revenge—revenge—they say that word ' s not lawful , And sweet Religion weeps at it . Dark , —dark . 0 God ! I know whom thou afflict ' st with griefs Thou look ' st for great things from . him . If my acts Must grow up to the measure of my woe , 1 shall amaze the world .
Ol . Ay , with revenge ! Whose fiery wing shall overtake your shame , And blind the eyes of them that look on it . Eth . Who plagues me with revenge ? Am I not mad enough ? Have I no devil here ? Cornelius ! Is it not said we must forgive our foes ? Cor . So it is said . Ol . For priests ! for priests ! Not men . Eth . For mine own wrongs , I could as soon forgive them , As dip my hand in water , but that she—O most accursed monster ! why the sun Would not too boldly look on her . Foul thoughts
Did from her presence and fair virgin eyes , Like ghosts from daylight , fly ashamed . Alas ! Was there no way to strike me singly—none ? But for my sins must needs another eoul , And in myself a dearer , nobler self , My life ' s blood—my heart ' s blood—my air—my centre ! Must that for me be shattered ?—Oh , yes ! yes ! I had no crown to lose but my heart ' s crown ; No wealth hut my heart ' s wealth—unpriceable ; Rich reputation none ; no mother ' s eyes , But my love's eyes did ever look upon me ; Here was I grafted , here grew , and since the stock Is blasted , here must wither !
Ol . Will you bear it ? 1 would you were dead sooner ! Have you heard ? He sends to seek the lady . Ay , . sends here To you , and to her brothers , threatening death To any that detains her .- —L . s ' t enough ? Eth , Did my brothers hear this ? Robert and Arthur both ?
Ol . Ay , and so heard as if the shameful words Were javelins in two angry lions' sides , And gnashed their teeth , and could not speak for rage . But you'll forgive—you'll bear it ? Eth . What I shall do , As yet I know not . This I will not do , — Now when my soul is mad , and I perceive not The right from wrong ,- let my blind rage take wing , And the great tasks and terrible purposes , With which Heaven sets my soul and martyrs m Mix in confusion irretrievable , Yet not the less , for this my slow delay , Will 1 be swift , in execution ,
^ teiulfuBt , and frightful to tho guilty soul ( if him that did this thing . Leave me , good friends [ Exeunt Olava and (' ornelius Why ho . Oh , horrible ! detestable ! I'll not think of it . Oli , pitiful ! oh , wondrous pitiful ! I shall go mad if I do think of it . Whm ' . s to be done ? Back , back , you wandering though ih , That like whipt hounds hang with reverted eyes , Hick to the carcum ; of my grief . O villain ! Away . It is some devil whispers me . What ? No revenge ! Young , young too , and a gol dier :
No noble rago ? Muat we endure liko clods , Under the heavy tread of tyranny ? Whereto then , had we thin quick iiery Hpirit , That starts at injury ; the bruised worms turns , And man framed delicate and sensitive ? , On whose line soul injustice drops like fire , Must lie bear all ? Slay there ! Kthel of Felborg Art thou so personal ? Affects it thee ? Such d (; edH strike deeper . This is not a thing Tho impulsive moods of angry men may mix in .
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No , nor admits a passionate remedy . But an occasion when , men standing amazed , The visible hand of awful judgment should Crush up iniquity , and retribution Divine walk on the earth . No ! no revenge . Teach me , O terrible God , I do believe , witness these swift hot tears , I do believe thou lov ' st me even in this . And therefore now thy sovran hand put forth , And my dejected , desultory soul Bind up to thy great meaning .. I believe . I'll go and seek my brothers . .. [ Exit . " No one who reads that will doubt the genius of the writer . Terrible as the situation is . the
language is equal to it . And in the succeeding scenes we have the development of a lofty nature severely tried by suffering , but bearing up under the trial , and sternly fulfilling the Christian . Ideal . The collision is between Revenge and Duty . Duty gains the victory . We cannot follow the author through these scenes at sufficient length to do him justice , and prefer , therefore , sending the curious reader to the volume itself . Emphatically we sayit : Here is a picture of the struggles of an heroic spirit , so lofty in purpose and so noble in execution , that in spite of all the drawbacks which severest criticism may detect , the artist , though now unknown , must eventually make himself a name in our poetical literature .
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THE ERNE FLY-FISHING . The Erne , its Legends and its Fly-fishing . By the Eev . Henry NewJand , Hector and Vicar of Westbourne . Chapman and HalL Mankind may be divided into two classes : those who fish , and those who do not . The classification is comprehensive and philosophic ; what subgenera may be drawn out we leave to minuter minds to specify ; our purpose is to show that those of the fishing class and those of the non-fishing class will find the volume before us an agreeable and instructive companion in the country . To those learned in flies and recondite in tackle , and to those who never whipped the breezy surface of
a river , nor gaffed a yellow gillaroo , the book seems almost equally addressed ; for however you may scorn the fisherman ' s delights , there is an innate sympathy with sport which always makes the narrative of it interesting . Moreover , while duly attending to his piscatorial readers , and furnishing them much pleasant information upon salmon , trout , flies , rivers , lakes , weather , &c , Mr . Newland is not unmindful of that extremely dull person , " the general reader , " and has varied his narrative with sketches of scenery , bits of Irish life , and legends of the Erne . It is a gossiping book , pleasant and unafFected , with some surplussa # e , but many delightful pages . The first chapter is an elaborate account of the Ichthyography of the Erne , describing the pools and the throws to be found in that river , with the average produce of the fisheries ; the succeeding chapters recount the exploits of a fishing party in a fictitious form , which admits of everything being introduced . Some of the legends are exquisite : here is one we commend to all lovers of such true poetry : — THE IIARI'Kh ' s FLIGHT . 41 It was in days long pust , when the whole of Fermanagh and the northern part of Sligo was possessed by the Maguiree , that a strong castlo stood on that rising ground in the middle of the bog opposite to us , on the northern shore . The castle was called Annagh . Buie , which , however grand it may sound in Celtic , signifies , in plain English , nothing more than tho Yellow 15 og . But hogs in thowe days had other value besides that of furnishing fuel . They added , more than any other natural feature , to the strength of tho houses , because it was impossible to bring any great number of men against them for want of standing room . The cautlo ' of Annagh Buie was deemed impregnable , and had for years effectually restrained the power of the O'Kourkes , who possessed tho country about Lough Gilly , whenover the MaguireH happened , to be nt war with thorn . This , as thorn was no particular cause of dispute , did not occur oftener than three or four times a-yearat the most . The Maguire of Annagh Buie , though a chief or ' petty king in his own right , was not the head of his name ; ho owed a sort of feudal allegiance to the lord of Knniskillen , and paid it scrupulously , whenever lie could not help doing ho .
* ' At the time we are speaking of , he had an only daughter and heircwH . » Sho whh , like all heroines of romanco , of beauty far too groat for my description ; but it was not on that account that her hand was nought by tho fierce O ' Jtourke of Lough Uilly , by the powerful Maguire , lord of Knniskillen . Each wan desirous of extending his dominion—each wuh alike : covetous of tho impregnable castle of Annagh Huic , and , for the Mike of that , were content to put
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540 © fctf & * ' *>**? [ Saturday ,
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Leader (1850-1860), June 7, 1851, page 540, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1886/page/16/
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