summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes4
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
-rw-r--r--old/60108-0.txt2440
-rw-r--r--old/60108-0.zipbin35522 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h.zipbin382898 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/60108-h.htm2944
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/algernon.pngbin7844 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/blind.pngbin4613 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/copernicus.pngbin2469 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/cover.jpgbin38250 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/forecasts.pngbin8955 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic22.pngbin1761 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic51a.pngbin1085 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic51b.pngbin1552 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic51c.pngbin886 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic52a.pngbin2251 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic52b.pngbin1101 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/gaelic52c.pngbin2148 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/giant.pngbin6920 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/heaven.pngbin3851 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_005.pngbin11423 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_007.pngbin4600 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_009.pngbin815 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_057.pngbin1996 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_058.pngbin30704 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_073.pngbin2852 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_078.pngbin3131 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_084.pngbin2135 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/i_090.pngbin95854 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/ireland.pngbin1681 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/leaf.pngbin1032 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/legend.pngbin8069 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/legend2.pngbin11208 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/mahee.pngbin9683 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/mahee2.pngbin7549 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/miscellaneous.pngbin4580 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/morris.pngbin3662 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/prologue.pngbin4499 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/railway.pngbin3952 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/schakhe.pngbin3006 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/song.pngbin4797 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/southern.pngbin3492 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/sundry.pngbin15499 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/60108-h/images/title.pngbin18797 -> 0 bytes
45 files changed, 17 insertions, 5384 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7b82bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+*.txt text eol=lf
+*.htm text eol=lf
+*.html text eol=lf
+*.md text eol=lf
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f3a3183
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #60108 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60108)
diff --git a/old/60108-0.txt b/old/60108-0.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index 717eeac..0000000
--- a/old/60108-0.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,2440 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Legend of the blemished king and other poems, by
-James H. Cousins
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Legend of the blemished king and other poems
-
-Author: James H. Cousins
-
-Illustrator: Lewis H. Victory
-
-Release Date: August 16, 2019 [EBook #60108]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGEND OF THE BLEMISHED KING ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS, Bryan Ness and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- _THE LEGEND
-
- OF THE
-
- BLEMISHED KING
-
- AND OTHER POEMS._
-
-
-
-
- _A FEW COPIES REMAINING._
-
- The Little Library--Vol. I.
-
- IDYLLS
-
- By LAURA JEAN DOUGLAS.
-
-
-=MODERATOR= says:--“Some of the most exquisite prose we have read for many
-a day.”
-
-=IRISH NEWS= (Belfast) says:--“In the ten ‘Idylls’ which Miss Douglas
-contributes, we have a group of the sweetest prose poetry possible.... A
-gallery of lovely pictures.... A thing of beauty and a joy for ever....
-The turn-out of the book is equal to anything of the same kind produced
-in London.”
-
-=MRS. ALICE A. PITMAN=, author of “=TALES FROM LONDON LIFE=,” says:--“The
-pictures are beautifully conceived, and elegantly portrayed.”
-
-=IRISH FIGARO= says:--“I am grateful to all who essay in a sincere spirit
-the difficult task of making Dublin a book-producing place. In ‘The
-Little Library,’ author, editor, publisher, and draughtsman have
-combined in an honest endeavour to attain that desirable end. The writer
-of ‘Idylls’ gives us ten short prose-poems, of which I take the liberty
-to give the first in its entirety as a specimen. It is entitled, ‘A Rose
-Garden.’... This is a beautiful picture.”
-
-=JAMES H. COUSINS= says:--“Beautiful prose fancies.”
-
-=IRISH DAILY INDEPENDENT= says:--“The book is beautifully produced, and a
-credit to Dublin.”
-
-=SCOTTISH SOCIETY= says:--“The weirdly-covered little book with the
-strange frontispiece which comes to us under the title of ‘Idylls,’ will
-be read with great enjoyment by all whose sense of literary quality is
-sufficiently educated to appreciate the extreme delicacy of
-word-painting in water-colours, if it may be so expressed.... In every
-sense of the word, they are perfect representations of the idyll in its
-purest form,... impossible to criticise, and difficult properly to
-praise.”
-
-
-
-
- THE LITTLE LIBRARY.--VOL. 2.
-
- EDITED BY M. J. KEATS.
-
- The
- Legend of the
- Blemished King
-
- And Other Poems.
-
- BY
- JAMES H. COUSINS.
-
- _WITH COVER DRAWN BY LOUIS H. VICTORY._
-
- Dublin:
- BERNARD DOYLE, FRANKLIN PRINTING WORKS,
- 9 UPPER ORMOND QUAY.
-
- 1897.
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration: Gaelic]
-
- AND
-
- TO THE COMPANION OF MY WANDERINGS
-
- AMONG MOST
-
- OF THE SCENES HEREIN MENTIONED,
-
- WHOSE PRESENCE
-
- GILDED THE SUN THAT SHINES UPON,
-
- AND PAINTED THE FLOWERS THAT BEDECK
-
- THE
-
- “FAIR HILLS OF HOLY IRELAND.”
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-THE LEGEND OF THE BLEMISHED KING-- PAGE
-
- PROLOGUE 19
-
- CANTO I. 23
-
- CANTO II. 30
-
- CANTO III. 37
-
- CANTO IV 42
-
-THE LEGEND OF SAINT MAHEE OF ENDRIM 49
-
-A SONG OF DECADENCE 65
-
-THE RAILWAY ARCH 67
-
-SCHAKHE 70
-
-IN THE GIANT’S RING, BELFAST 74
-
-THE BLIND FATHER 78
-
-THE SOUTHERN CROSS 85
-
-ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM MORRIS 87
-
-COPERNICUS 89
-
-TO ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 90
-
-HEAVEN AND EARTH 91
-
-ON SOME TWENTIETH CENTURY FORECASTS 92
-
-IRELAND 93
-
-
-
-
-_EDITOR’S NOTE._
-
-
-Wordsworth, writing a sonnet, having for its subject the sonnet-form,
-said:--
-
- “To me,
- In sundry moods, ’twas pastime to be bound
- Within the sonnet’s scanty plot of ground;”
-
-and all those who have essayed the task of composing in this particular
-form will admit that Wordsworth’s definition--“scanty plot of
-ground”--characterises the sonnet’s limitations precisely.
-
-As will be observed in the following pages, Mr. Cousins not only excels
-as a sonneteer; but in “The Legend of the Blemished King” he performs
-the remarkable feat of producing a poem of classical character,
-containing forty-eight stanzas, cast perfectly in the no less difficult
-mould known as the Spenserian stanza--eight heroic lines, followed by an
-Alexandrine, rhyming thus:--1, 3; 2, 4, 5, 7; 6, 8, 9.
-
-The subject, however more than the technique, is remarkable. It will
-have an especial attraction for all who are interested in the ancient
-literature of Ireland; and, indeed it should be of universal interest,
-because of the fact that this story of Fergus bears a strong resemblance
-to the Scriptural narrative of Eden and the Fall of Man. It is a kind of
-allegory common to all ancient races, containing in its heart an
-unobtruded moral, wrapped in dramatic incident and decorated with
-charming pictures of land and sea.
-
-It is, in short, what Fiona M’Leod would call a “legendary morality.”
-
-The other poems are equally admirable; and, indeed, however considered,
-I think that this book should prove a valuable addition to the best
-literary products of Ireland.
-
-RIGHT
-M. J. K.
-
-
-
-
- DEIRDRE.
-
- Illan, what King was he dwelt here of yore?
-
- ILLAN.
-
- Fergus, the son of Leide Lithe-o’-limb,
- Ere yet he reigned at Eman, did dwell here.
-
- DEIRDRE.
-
- What, Fergus Wry-mouth? I have heard of him,
- And how he came by his ill-favoured name.
- Methinks I see him when he rose again
- From combat with the monster, and his face,
- That had that blemish till love wiped it off,
- Serene and ample-featured like a King.
-
- ILLAN.
-
- Not love but anger, made him fight the beast.
-
- DEIRDRE.
-
- No, no, I will not have it anger. Love
- Prompts every deed heroic. ’Tis the fault
- Of him who did compose the tale at first,
- Not to have shown ’twas love unblemished him.
- . . . . . .
-
- FERGUS.
-
- All Erin, shore to shore, shall ring with it
- And poets in the ages yet to come
- Make tales of wonder of it for the world.
-
- “DEIRDRE.”--FERGUSON
-
-
-
-
- The Legend of the
- Blemished King.
-
-
-
-
- Prologue: At Scrabo, Co. Down.
-
-
- _The rugged rock against the sky
- Heaves high a tower-topped crest,
- Whence widens out beneath the eye
- The realms of East and West.
- Here lies a land but seldom sung,--
- This crude, majestic crown,
- And that white sea that moves among
- The fertile fields of Down!_
-
- _Unsung!--save when an alien lyre
- A moment’s space was strung,
- And Browning fanned a little fire,
- And Helen’s Tower was sung.
- Yet storied homes of sept and clan
- Are here, and,--dim and vague,--
- Anear and far, Ben Madighan,
- And Keats-sung Ailsa Craig!_
-
- _Unsung!--and wherefore? lovely land!
- Hast thou not ample store
- For song, from yonder ocean strand,
- To Strangford’s shining shore?
- Hast thou not throbbed to foamy flanks,
- And sound of Saxon steel,
- To crash of Cromwell’s rattling ranks,
- And Clansmen of O’Neill?_
-
- _And yet, not all thy songful crown
- Is strife of right with wrong;
- Here, limpid lark-streams trickle down
- A hundred peaks of song;
- There, silent sheep and lambkins lie--
- A white, uncertain thing--
- Like lingering snow that fain would spy
- The secret of the spring._
-
- _The roaming robber breezes catch,
- And hither upward float,
- A lusty lilt and vagrant snatch
- From some far rustic throat;
- And blustering bye, with strident shout,
- From scenes of festive glee,
- That libertine of flower and sprout,
- The bacchanalian bee._
-
- _All life is song:--and song is life
- To souls with these akin,
- Unfettered by yon city’s strife,
- Unsullied by its sin!
- Some part of these fair fields and coast,
- Some waft of phantom wings,
- Will haunt my heart, a welcome ghost,
- A hint of higher things._
-
- _Dear land of love and happy lot
- Of merry maids and swains,
- Worthy the martial muse of Scott,
- Or Virgil’s pastoral strains;
- Loved land, this tongue thy song would share
- This votive soul is thine:
- Thy lips are loud with praise and prayer,--
- Pray God they kindle mine!_
-
-
-
-
- The Legend of the Blemished King.
-
-
-[NOTE:--I am indebted to “The Ecclesiastical History of Down and
-Connor,” by Rev. James O’Laverty, for the story of the “Blemished King.”
-Believing it to be comparatively unknown, and desiring, as far as lay in
-my power, to spread a knowledge of the interesting stories and legends
-which abound in Irish History and Literature, I translated it into
-verse. I learn, however, that a poem on the same subject has been
-written by the late Sir Samuel Ferguson, under the title of “Fergus
-Wry-mouth.” I can only plead justification for running the inevitable
-gauntlet of comparison between a giant and a pigmy, on the ground that I
-had already committed myself to the publication of the present version
-of the legend before I became aware of the fact mentioned. I have not
-read the poem by Sir Samuel Ferguson, and I shall not do so until after
-this volume is in print; but I have written Lady Ferguson on the matter,
-and she very kindly refuses to see any possible objection to the
-publication of my rendering of the story, seeing that it contains almost
-as many stanzas as there are lines in Sir Samuel’s.
-
-The Loch of Rory ([Illustration: Gaelic]), the centre around which the
-following story moves, is Dundrum Bay. That bay is still remarkable for
-its roar, which has been frequently referred to by ancient writers. Even
-a modern poet (S. K. Cowan, in “Sung by Six”) has written of the bay,
-“where deep seas moan.” Other evidences point to the identity of Rory
-and Dundrum, in opposition to the conjectures of some that the present
-Belfast Lough was the scene of the incidents contained in the “Legend of
-the Blemished King.”--THE AUTHOR.]
-
-
-
-
- CANTO I.
-
-
- I.
-
- Eastward in Eireann lay the Lough of Rory.
- The Moon, like some pale huntress, landward led
- Her white-toothed hounds betwixt the promontory
- And its far twin. Thither King Fergus sped
- Within his chariot. High his shaggy head
- Clove thro’ the dusky clouds his chargers made;
- And o’er his shoulders, far behind him, spread
- Loose locks, and circling cloak, in which arrayed
- He, with benignant arm, Ultonia’s sceptre swayed.
-
-
- II.
-
- Beside him stood his suremost charioteer,
- (Muëna, faithful bondsman of his lord,
- Favoured in form, and swift of eye and ear),
- Urging with well-skilled hand and timely word
- The flying steeds. The seaward-soaring bird
- Seemed fixed in Heaven, so swift they sped: the day
- Lumbered behind, as high the sand they stirred,
- And echoes of their wheels that edged the spray
- Rolled thro’ the silent hills like thunder far away!
-
-
- III.
-
- Onward they whirled. The billows on the beach
- Drew backward in amaze, then, bolder grown,
- Sprang forward to the chase, but far from reach
- The phantom bounded on o’er sand and stone;
- Till the low clouds that late-born winds had blown
- About the hills, upon the chariot’s flight
- Drew down their brows; or was it they had flown
- Thro’ dalliant day into a former night
- That now, with jealous hand, hid shore and sea from sight?
-
-
- IV.
-
- Then when the day had rallied all its forces,--
- A splash of glory in a murky west,--
- Obedient, where it pleased (like men), the horses
- Slackened their speed, and paused, and stood at rest.
- “Thus far, O King! fulfilled is thy behest,”
- Muëna said. To whom the King: “To thee
- And me ’twere Heaven in Night’s soft arms carest
- To sleep.”--They slept.--Without, that smith, the sea,
- On adamantine anvils shaped new shores to be.
-
-
- V.
-
- Who knoweth not the spell that lurks in twilight?--
- When mystic murmurs float across the world
- From strange, vague forms that hate the brazen highlight
- Of day, and sleep in hidden corners curled
- Till, westward, day has nigh his banner furled.
- Then fare they forth: rich spoil, in sooth, they found
- Where Fergus had his mighty figure hurled
- Upon the chariot’s floor. They drew around,
- Plucked from its sheath his sword, and bore him to the ground,
-
-
- VI.
-
- Thence to the verge of ocean. Fairy elves,
- A thousand strong, the toilsome task essayed;
- While twice a thousand, perched on rocky shelves,
- A wierd accomp’niment of laughter made
- (Timed to their phantom forms that swung and swayed).
- So sweet the sound, ’twould seem the winds, at rest
- For once from warring, ’mong the treetops played:
- Till, lo, the King, so close they round him prest,
- Woke, and a struggling trio clasped upon his breast.
-
-
- VII.
-
- “Life for thy life,” they cried: “have mercy, King!”
- Swift to his feet he sprang. The fairy throng
- Vanished like vapour, save where, in the ring
- Of his tight-clasping arms, as swift along
- The dim-seen beach he strode the stones among,
- The wriggling remnant of the elvish crew
- Craved mercy.--“Mercy doth to thee belong,
- And ours in turn to render service due.”
- Clasping them in his arms he toward his chariot drew.
-
-
- VIII.
-
- There lay Muëna, wrapt in peaceful sleep,
- Nor woke the King his bondsman; but did say
- To those he held his captives: “Through the deep,
- And under, give me knowledge of the way,
- Unfearful of the power of wave or spray.
- This shall ye grant and live.” “O King, such boon,”
- Thus said the elves, “sweeps not beyond our sway;
- So shall be thine, ere swings another moon,
- Skill meet to dare the depths of river and lagoon,
-
-
- IX.
-
- “Save Rory, whence thou camest; that shalt thou
- Ne’er ruffle with thy foot: within its wide
- Impassioned breast, from day’s first dawn till now,
- And still from now till dawn’s last day, has plied,
- And still shall ply, the spirit of the tide
- His secret craft. Nor thou nor human kind
- Shall scan his face and live. All else beside
- Is thine when Earth ’s again to Day resigned,
- Whose advent now is blown on trumpets of the wind.”
-
-
- X.
-
- So when the morn, like Virtue’s cheek red-blushing
- For night’s black deeds, from couch of cloud arose,
- Ere yet were heard hoarse caws and dark wings rushing
- Athwart the sun, when trailing lines of crows
- Hasten to haunts far off that no man knows,
- Beside the sea stood King and charioteer
- To take the waves’ great secret now from those
- In promise bound, who stand apart, yet near,
- Where wavelets lift and lay, as if some word to hear.
-
-
- XI.
-
- Then spake the first of fairies: “O great King,
- Thy life was ours--we spared it; ours was thine
- And thou didst spare us, yet encompassing
- Thy deed with obligation, line on line,
- And promise holding promise,--me and mine
- To do, and thou to do not. Now the hour
- Hath come--as ne’er before--when billow and brine
- Yield to a mortal every whit of power--
- Save one--how suns soe’er may shine or clouds may lower.”
-
-
- XII.
-
- Low bowed the Monarch his assenting head.
- The elfin chieftain swiftly drew anear
- Doffing his hood, long-trailing, ruby red.
- Lo! on the King ’tis placed. In either ear
- They plant sweet spices, herbs, anointing clear;
- And weird enchantments drown the muffled roar
- Of throbbing ocean. Then the charioteer
- Beholds his master pass the waters o’er,
- And stands, a lonely man upon a lonely shore.
- . . . . . .
-
-
- XIII.
-
- Day brightened in the East, and o’er the waters
- The round sun rose and threw across the wave
- A lambent flame, blood-red, as though from slaughters
- In Orient lands. The breaking surf did lave
- Muëna’s feet: he, wrapt in wonderings grave,
- Looked long and wistful, such as lovers do
- To greet their love. At length the wondering slave
- Saw on the deep a form that neared, and grew,
- And stepped upon the beach--the King returned anew.
-
-
-
-
- CANTO II.
-
-
- XIV.
-
- Thenceforth, King Fergus, strong in power new born,
- Recked not a restful hour, but, passion-fired,
- And strong in strength un’customed, night and morn
- Probed to the farthest deeps his soul desired.
- At such swift speed too soon his soul acquired
- The sum of knowledge granted. “All below,”
- So spake the King, “to which I have aspired
- Is mine,--that earth or ocean can bestow,
- Save one, whose secret fain my mind would grasp and know.”
-
-
- XV.
-
- So chafe Restriction’s fetters. So within
- Dwelleth for ever ancient Adam’s will.
- Sweet though the tasted fruit, the fruit unseen,
- Or seen but yet forbid, is sweeter still.
- Lord of the land, of river, vale, and hill,
- King Fergus stood, and “Wherefore,” thus said he,
- “This circumscription? What of greater ill
- Dwelleth within the breast of mine own sea
- Than those whose farthest caves have felt the foot of me?
-
-
- XVI.
-
- “I _will_ descend to Rory: haply there
- May dwell some secret whose resistless charms,
- Bent to my kindred’s service, danger, care
- Shall put apart, and shield from hurt or harm
- In council grave or battle’s loud alarm.
- What ho, Muëna. Haste my charioteer.
- Who boasts that weak has grown my kingly arm
- To sweep its path of all restriction clear?
- Fergus is Fergus still--and Fergus knows no fear!”
-
-
- XVII.
-
- Muëna heard, and answered word by deed.
- Soon rolled the chariot round the palace hall,
- And Eastward toward the ocean; steed by steed
- Stretched to the task his limbs; their hoofs did fall
- Like rain on summer noons. The curlews’ call
- Gave token of the near-approaching end,
- And soon before their eyes the ocean wall
- Shouldered the shock of waters that extend
- To meet the sky. The King did to the marge descend.
-
-
- XVIII.
-
- Know you the Loch of Rory? Sages tell
- How, when the sons of Adam felt the force
- Of watery judgments, came a vagrant swell
- And burst round shores of Eireann. Man and horse,
- King, chief, and clansman, in the widening course
- Of high, resistless billows, sank from sight
- ’Mong cries from throats in sudden anguish hoarse
- That called, and called, and ceased when fell the night,--
- And on a stranger shore soft broke the morning’s light.
-
-
- XIX.
-
- Across this shore Ultonia’s King now passed.
- The waves that rattled up the pebbled strand
- Rose in their ranks, then low before him cast
- Themselves, and stood aside on either hand.
- The King moved forward. Never magic wand
- More swift compelled submission. Thro’ the spray,
- As tho’ he trod upon the level land,
- He took, ’twixt watery walls, a deepening way,
- Till o’er his head the waves shut out the light of day.
-
-
- XX.
-
- Forward he fared. No swimmer’s opened eye
- E’er scanned so sweet a sight. In glimmering green
- Slow lightening upward to the watery sky
- That arched the watery world, in softer sheen
- Than mortals wot of, lay the fairy scene:--
- Fantastic rocks, sea-flowers that rose and fell
- As brushed by silent shapes that moved between
- Him and the darkening distance, fairy cell,
- And beds of ocean bloom more sweet than Asphodel.
-
-
- XXI.
-
- There sat the King adown to scan the world
- Of more than wonder. Thither came to sue
- For explanation things that swam, and curled,
- Then circled round, and passed away from view.
- Here stood as ’twere a camp, and there a few
- Forms, not of ocean, human arms outspread.
- King Fergus wept to make the sad review
- Where those who faced the flood, now dumb and dead,
- Slept out the tale of time upon the ocean’s bed.
-
-
- XXII.
-
- Short space he sat when, from athwart the deep,
- There came a sound of horror! Far and near
- A wild commotion rose, as things that creep,
- Or climb, or swim, smitten with sudden fear,
- Darkened the depths that erst had been so clear.
- King Fergus started upward to his feet,
- And saw, but dimly, toward him quickly steer
- A dreadful shape that came like lightning fleet,
- And chilled the monarch’s blood such fearful foe to meet.
-
-
- XXIII.
-
- It was the Muirdris!! Nought that men have known
- Could match its awful visage: high upheld
- On ogrish limbs, one moment ape-like grown,
- It flew along, till, lo! it sank, and swelled
- To size gigantic, while it yelped and yelled
- In sound that spake of fury, fiendish ire.
- In tremulous awe the King the beast beheld
- Bent in its course on devastation dire,
- While from its eyeballs streamed malignant lines of fire.
-
-
- XXIV.
-
- Round turned the King, and flew as ’twere from Death!
- Swift sped the beast within his foamy track.
- Wreathed round his form the King could feel its breath,
- Nor dared he glance one smallest moment back.
- Behind the twain, like tempest-driven rack,
- Spread clouds of foam, pointing the path of each.
- Above, white billows lashed the shore. His neck
- Muëna, wondering, strained,--till on the beach
- Swooned the swift-fleeing King beyond the monster’s reach.
-
-
- XXV.
-
- But tho’ Muëna wondered as he saw
- His King, ’mid foamy spray, make sudden flight,
- Far more he wondered as he scanned the flaw
- Upon the King’s wan face, that made the sight
- More dreadful than some horror-haunted night.
- Lo! wide apart, and stretched from ear to ear,
- In sudden aspect of tremendous fright,
- Gaped, like a cave, his jaws: the eyes, once clear,
- Stared as upon a sight of overmastering fear.
-
-
- XXVI.
-
- Muëna bore the King upon his breast
- Into the chariot. There he laid him, dazed,
- On ample couch, his fevered form to rest,
- Soft shaded from the sun, that burned and blazed
- High overhead,--then whipt the steeds, as crazed
- From some pursuing phantom. Might and main
- In lightning alternation high they raised
- Sure-stepping foot, and over hill and plain
- Toward far Emania’s walls their swiftest strength they strain.
-
-
-
-
- CANTO III.
-
-
- XXVII.
-
- Not far the sun had fallen, when he drew
- The chargers’ reins beside the circling sweep
- Of Royal walls. The gathering clansmen knew
- From foam and steam no slow and leisured creep
- Had been their pace. Their thought took leap on leap
- From sight to meaning. Then upon the floor
- They spied the King recumbent as in sleep,
- And as the form was borne within the door,
- In others’ eyes they sought the secret o’er and o’er.
-
-
- XXVIII.
-
- Straightway into the council-room of chiefs
- And sages was the limp-limbed body borne.
- Then spake Muëna: “Lo! a grief of griefs,
- Ultonia’s hearts are kingless and forlorn,
- For know ye not how spake the wiseman, born
- To wisdom?--‘Ne’er shall King with blemish marred
- Reign’: and behold! alas! since this sad morn
- King Fergus, from Ambition evil-starred,
- Lies now before your eyes in visage sorely scarred.
-
-
- XXIX.
-
- “Choose ye a King, to reign within his stead.”
- He ceased, but answer came not; rather, round
- The silent throng flew questioning glance that said
- Unstable vacillation. Not a sound
- Broke cover till one bolder spirit wound
- The trumpet-horn of speech; then left and right,
- Leapt forth the hounds of thought, and roof and ground
- Echoed impassioned tongues, and feet bedight
- With thong and sandal, plied with each loud speaker’s might.
-
-
- XXX.
-
- Then spake the sons of wisdom, they who stood
- Apart in silent conclave, while the din
- Of ineffectual babblings drew no rood
- More near conclusion: “Hear, Ultonian kin!
- What arm so strong Ultonia’s wars to win,
- Foster the strength of strong, inspire the weak?
- Lives there a soul full fit to stand within
- The Monarch’s room? What worthier do you seek
- To guide the reins of peace, or would ye other? Speak!”
-
-
- XXXI.
-
- “None! none!” the multitudinous answer rang
- Unanimous. (King Fergus, with a sigh,
- Turned in his sleep. Perchance he dreamed there sang
- Some bard of deeds their fathers did.) The cry
- Thrilled through the chamber’s walls, and far and nigh
- Found answer in a thousand throats, that gave
- Their yet unmeaning plaudits to the sky;
- And as, in sound like shoreward-shrieking wave
- They shout, the secret they in others’ faces crave.
-
-
- XXXII.
-
- Without, the crowd swayed back and forth, with din
- Low-muffled, as the sea doth surge and sway
- In silken swell, from storm gone past. Within
- Was calm, and brows determined sought a way
- Through that old law to write emphatic “Nay!”
- Then quoth the wisemen’s chief: “Our path is plain.
- Our hearts upon our tongues have said their say,
- And Fergus o’er Ultonia’s host shall reign,
- If but to meet our thoughts your constant strength ye strain.
-
-
- XXXIII.
-
- “Let fools and babblers take their journey far,
- And silent sit as sent’nel to your speech.
- What wots the King of that which him doth mar
- If but the knowledge in the breast of each
- Be locked beyond a thought’s long-arméd reach
- Till forced forgetfulness doth rust the key
- Or haply lose it. E’en your art let teach
- The water to forget his form to see
- Or give it back, when to ablution cometh he.”
-
-
- XXXIV.
-
- Approval shone within their eyes. Their tongues
- In loud assent gave forth: “Fergus is King!”
- And once again without, untutored lungs
- Caught up the cry, nor knew what meant the thing,
- ’Till, like a mighty bird, on fresh-plumed wing,
- The Royal chariot once again did shake
- Rampart and roof, as champing steeds did fling
- Their heads on high, and sped by mount and brake
- To scenes of less surprise when Fergus should awake.
-
- . . . . . .
-
-
-
- XXXV.
-
- What need to sing of deeds within the scope
- Of thrice a dozen moons? What need to tell
- How fared the King when, by the sanded slope
- Where twice a day the sea-waves fret and swell,
- He woke? Or devious deeds that oft befell
- Clansman and chief in those high-sounding days
- Of war-girt peace--a Heaven ringed round with Hell--
- Or battle’s loud-lunged shout, or conquest’s blaze,
- Or how the blemished King ne’er on his fault did gaze.
-
-
-
-
- CANTO IV.
-
-
- XXXVI.
-
- ’Twas thus--and thus, when thrice a year had sped
- King Fergus of his blemish happed to know:--
- “I go to mine ablutions (so he said
- Unto his bond-maid), girl, the task you know
- Of preparation. Haste you, for I go
- On mighty mission!” P’r’aps ’twas Fate’s decree
- The maiden’s arm in service seemed full slow,
- And Fergus, strained of nerve, was swift to see
- In microscopic faults, some slight of majesty.
-
-
- XXXVII.
-
- Howbeit,--the fire to firelike will give blaze,
- And progeny of one small word or deed
- Count thousand-thousand. Half in wide amaze,
- And half in wild vexation that slow heed
- The maiden gave to that his will decreed,
- He strode into her presence: then on high
- He raised the stinging lash his stout-skinned steed
- Oft felt, and flinched, and, drawing swiftly nigh,
- Its serpent hiss was drowned in the smit’ maiden’s cry.
-
-
- XXXVIII.
-
- “A curse upon your laggard form!” he hissed.
- The smitten girl swift raised her flashing eyes
- In scarlet indignation, nor was missed
- The blemish on the Monarch’s face. She cries:
- “King Fergus, heartless coward! I loathe, despise
- Your craven hand, nor e’en a word would deign,
- But that I deem your spirit’s shape and size
- Must match your brute-like visage.” Purpling plain
- With rage, he drew his sword and cut the maid in twain.
-
-
- XXXIX.
-
- A maddened moment’s deed! And when the storm
- Was past, the King in calm the wreck surveyed
- Of his own making. Towering o’er the form
- Prostrate and purple, holding still the blade
- Wet with her life, he stood as sore dismayed,
- Muttering: “Visage! Visage!” still the word
- Beat inward on his ’wildered brain, nor stayed
- Till that grim truth, long hid, to sight restored,
- Burst on his mind. He turned, still clasping tight the sword.
-
-
- XL.
-
- Three steps beyond the portal of the room
- Where lay the maid, he stopped and cast a look
- Backward,--a look portentous of dark doom
- To all beneath its ban. Aloft he shook
- The bleeding blade; then cried, till every nook,
- E’en to the farthest of the farthest halls,
- Trembled; and, as he called, his way he took
- Down corridors that held his foot’s swift falls
- Till cry and footfall blent without the castle walls.
-
-
- XLI.
-
- The cry was: “Visage! Visage! Death and blood
- To what has wrought the ruin of yon maid,--
- That hideous habitant of Rory’s flood
- Who plies--mayhap not long--his secret trade;
- And mine ambition that such depths essayed
- As strained the strength of me. Yet, not for nought
- The fiend was found, tho’ fled I sore dismayed:
- Some lesson yet is there, tho’ anguish-taught;
- Some profit yet remains, tho’ it in blood be bought.
-
-
- XLII.
-
- One falleth--that foul spirit: then is past
- Temptation of ambition; but, perchance
- Mine arm may fail: sobeit, then is cast
- Away the secret.” On did he advance.
- And one who saw his eyeballs’ lightning glance,
- And marked his mood and manner, thro’ the crowd
- Spread rumouring words, keen, swift as strong-threwn lance,
- That drew them forth, a multitude, all browed
- With wonderment that grew with each swift stride, till, loud
-
-
- XLIII.
-
- And deep before them, Rory swells and swings.
- Behold! the King nor pauses, nor aside
- Turns in his track.--Not mine to tell of things
- Run riot in those minds that edged the tide,
- Where late the billows did King Fergus hide,
- Nor gave of him a token, save the swell
- Of giant strivings in the waters wide,
- And one wild wave that, as from heart of Hell,
- Leaped for the shore and ’mong the wondering warriors fell.
-
-
- XLIV.
-
- And thereupon arose confusion, such
- As ne’er was seen before, and ne’er again
- Shall e’er be seen. With tops that seemed to touch
- The heights of Heaven arose the strenuous main
- In wild tumultuous strivings, till the brain
- Of those beholders whirled, and they that spake
- In terror seemed all voiceless, for in vain
- Speech called at its own ears. All heaven did make
- Sound at whose dreadful voice all earth did seem to shake.
-
-
- XLV.
-
- And far across the world a tempest bore
- Sounds of a conflict such as never yet
- Man’s eyes beheld,--e’en to the cloudy shore
- Of distant Britain: there did they beget
- Vague words of wonder. Ere the sun had set
- Within a stormy west nor man nor maid
- Of all Ultonia but with spray was wet
- As, lo! from each far hill, each distant glade
- Long thousands shoreward drew with wide-eyed wonder swayed.
-
-
- XLVI.
-
- And when it seemed as if the heavens swam
- In wild bewilderment,--each starry sphere
- Would topple earthward, straightway fell a calm
- That laid a hush upon the heart of fear,
- And soothed both sea and sky, till softest tear
- Would drop with sound of cataracts in the glen.
- And thus they waited what should next appear,
- Uncounted thousands of full-armëd men,
- Bards, chieftans, clansmen, women, maids, youths, children:--then
-
-
- XLVII.
-
- As if the sea had stolen half the glow
- Of the sunk sun, the quiet Loch flushed red,
- And lengthened day, e’en tho’ the day did go
- To other lands. “Some portent this,” they said,
- “Of the fight’s finish: one hath joined the dead--
- Which, shall appear full soon.”--Lo! on the sea
- What form is yon that waves a hideous head
- Within its hand? They gaze, they shout: “’Tis he,
- Fergus, Ultonia’s King. Fergus hath victory!”
-
-
- XLVIII.
-
- Then that red glory brightened, and they scanned
- The King’s marred visage--marred?--nay, pure and bright
- As erst in youth! He called: “With this right hand
- Nerved with the fury of revengeful might,
- I fought--and won! I’ve lived my day; now night
- Doth wrap its blackness round me: I but pay
- The price of mine own deed.” And from their sight
- He sank beneath the waters of the bay
- Which rolled in waves of blood for many a devious day!
-
-
-
-
- The Legend of St. Mahee
-
- of Endrim.
-
-
-
-
- The Legend of Saint Mahee of Endrim.
-
-
-
-
- TO J. A. GREGG.
-
-
-[NOTE.--Saint Mahee ([Illustration: Gaelic]) was born about 420 A.D.,
-founded the Abbey of Endrim ([Illustration: Gaelic]--the single ridge),
-on the beautiful island bearing that name, about 450, and died in the
-year 496 or 497. For several centuries the Abbey, in which education and
-religion were combined, occupied a prominent position, and turned out a
-number of subsequent founders of similar institutions. Between 974 and
-1178 history is silent in regard to it, but it is certain that, from its
-position on Cuan ([Illustration: Gaelic]--a lough, now Strangford),
-which was infested by Danish marauders, it came in for a large share of
-their devastating attentions. From the date of its affiliation with an
-English educational establishment, 1178, it seems to have fallen on evil
-days, and in 1450 it is simply noted as a Parish Church in the charge of
-the Bishop of Down.
-
-The Island of Endrim--or, as it is now called, in memory of its Patron
-Saint, Mahee--is situated most picturesquely on Strangford Lough, about
-seven miles from Comber, Co. Down, and is approachable on foot or car by
-a modern causeway-road, which crosses an intervening island. On the
-shoreward end of the island may be seen many remnants of the stone
-buildings which superseded the original wooden structures. These
-remnants include the stump of a round tower; traces of extensive
-foundations once laid bare by the late Bishop Reeves, but now almost
-entirely hidden from view; the site of the harbour where anchored “ships
-from Britain;” evidences of a hallowed God’s-acre, and a fairly complete
-castle of a later period. The circuit of the island can be made on foot
-leisurely in a couple of hours, and the walk affords a view of the
-extensive waters of the once Dane-infested lough, the distant hoary
-walls of Greyabbey, the haunts of Saint Patrick, the reputed scene of
-the death of Ollav Fola ([Illustration: Gaelic], the lawgiver of Erin),
-and the martial deeds of De Courcey.
-
-Ballydrain, about half-way between Comber and Mahee Island, is so-called
-from [Illustration: Gaelic], a townland, and [Illustration: Gaelic], a
-blackthorn tree; and the reader will observe the connection between this
-place and the Island of Mahee. No trace of a church has yet been
-discovered at Ballydrain.
-
-The idea contained in the Legend has been variously rendered by several
-eminent authors. The incident in which it is here embodied may, however,
-be fairly claimed as the oldest version--the original, in fact.--THE
-AUTHOR.]
-
-
- Lo! right and left, in calm repose,
- Are spread unnumbered isles,
- Between whose shores the bluff breeze blows,
- And sungilt Strangford smiles.
- The shoreward way our feet have left
- Below, still winds along
- Where strenuous waves, in eddy and cleft,
- Croon low their iterant song.
-
-
- II.
-
- Bright in the passionate, tremulous rays
- From cloudy towers of day,
- Yon crumbling castle seems to gaze
- At castles far away,
- Like parted friends of other years
- Who meet, nor waste a word,
- But wondering stand, and smile thro’ tears
- From depths unfathomed stirred.
-
-
- III.
-
- Here may we rest, and make our seat
- On this high rock-strewn mound,
- “Put off our shoes from off our feet”--
- We tread on holy ground
- The haunts where many a sandalled sole
- Trod out life’s lust and woe,
- And, stedfast set to one high goal,
- Went down in dust below.
-
-
- IV.
-
- No stone is theirs engraven large
- With record born of strife,
- No gilded scroll, no carven marge,
- No legend loud with life.
- Far other deeds than men applaud
- Their holy hands essayed,
- In life viceregent here of God,
- In death still undismayed.
-
-
- V.
-
- No fluctuant favours--servile spouse
- Of princes’ transient smile--
- Did e’er bedeck their sacred brows,
- Their saintly souls defile:
- No life-warm lips their own had kissed
- (Earth’s hope-inspiring dove)--
- Their life was one long Eucharist
- Eternalised in love.
-
-
- VI.
-
- The workers went; the works remain.
- Time here small kingship owns.
- Thro’ ’whelming winds, thro’ sun and rain,
- Have lived these lichened stones,
- And that brief tower upreared by those
- Whose dread was from the deep,--
- In strife their strength, in peace repose,
- Their guardian now in sleep.
-
-
- VII.
-
- Thine eyes, old tower, have scanned the scroll
- And palimpsest of Earth,
- And fain would we thy thoughts unroll
- Thro’ years of bliss or dearth,
- For thou from thy calm height dost look
- With sage, dispassionate eye,
- To where the star of day-dawn shook
- Within a youthful sky.
-
-
- VIII.
-
- We deem thee old; but age is not
- A toll of hours and days,--
- Mean measure of our little lot
- And arbitrary ways.
- We run our little round of change
- Thro’ years of less or more,
- But Time to thee holds nought of strange,
- Unheard, unseen before.
-
-
- IX.
-
- Down paths of night no starrier balls
- No new Milanion throws;
- Thro’ no transfigured day’s high halls
- Th’ itinerant breeze still blows;
- Belligerent ever, baffled still,
- Th’ importunate surges swing;
- Still dear as dawn th’ ecstatic thrill
- And prophet power of Spring.
-
-
- X.
-
- Wrapt in a dream of ancient days
- Thou stand’st aloof from ours,
- Yet nought hast thou of battle’s blaze
- Or blighting iron showers;
- For well-beloved art thou of moon,
- And sun, and winds, and stars,
- Forever in thy heart attune
- To every statelier bars
-
-
- XI.
-
- Than aught my highest hope could know
- In this inspiring breath
- Where wilding blossoms bloom and blow,
- As life blooms out of death;
- Yet fain, withal, my lips would wed
- To song, for modern ears,
- This chord from lyric days long dead,
- This dream from epic years:
-
-
- THE LEGEND.
-
- Quoth good Saint Mahee of Endrim,
- “I shall build for Christ my master
- Here a church, and here defend him
- And His cause from all disaster.”
- Seven score youths cut beam and wattle,
- Seven score hands unseared in battle
- Their unstinted aid did lend him,
- Fast and ever faster.
-
- But tho’ arm, and voice loud-ringing,
- To a test of toil defied him,
- Right and left the wattles flinging,
- Not a tongue could dare deride him
- For, before them all, he stood
- Finished, waiting. Not a rood
- From the spot a bird was singing
- In a thorn beside him.
-
- Sang no bird in ancient story
- Half so sweet or loud a strain:
- Seaward to the Lough of Rory,
- Landward then, and back again,
- Swelled the song, and trilled and trembled
- O’er the toiling youths assembled,
- Rang around ’mid Summer glory
- There at Ballydrain.
-
- Far more beautiful the bird was
- Than the bright-plumed Bird of Bliss
- And the Abbot’s feeling stirred was
- To its deepest depths, I wis;
- ’Till, as from the fiery splendour
- Moses saw, in accents tender
- Spake the bird, and lo, the word was:
- “Goodly work is this!”
-
- “True,” quoth Saint Mahee of Endrim,
- “’Tis required by Christ my master
- Here to build, and here defend Him
- And His cause from all disaster;
- But my blood mounts high with weening
- Of this goodly word the meaning?”
- Nearer then the bird did tend him,
- Fast and even faster.
-
- “I shall answer. I descended
- From mine angel-soul’s compeers,
- From my home serene and splendid
- To this haunt of toil and tears;
- Came to cheer thee with a note
- From an angel’s silvern throat.”
- Then he sang three songs: each, ended,
- Made a hundred years.
-
- There, thro’ days that dawned and darkened,
- With his wattles by his side,
- Stood the island Saint and hearkened
- To that silvery-flowing tide
- Stood entranced, and ever wondr’éd,
- Till had circled thrice a hundred
- Years o’er fields, life-lade or stark, and
- Strangford’s waters wide.
-
- Then when came the final number,
- Ceased the angel-bird its strain,
- And, unheld by ills that cumber
- Mortals, sought the heavenly plain.
- Then the Saint, in mute amaze,
- Round him turned an anxious gaze,
- And from that far land of slumber
- Came to Earth again.
-
- Low his load, mid weed and flower,
- Lay beside him all unbroken,
- Till, with thrice augmented power,
- From his holy dream awoken,
- Up he bore it to his shoulder--
- Broad and not a hand’s breath older.
- Scarce, thought he, had passed an hour
- Since the bird had spoken.
-
- Toward his island church he bore it.
- Lo, an oratory gleaming,
- And “To Saint Mahee,” writ o’er it!
- “Now,” quoth he, “in faith I’m dreaming!
- Say, good monk, at whose consistory
- Shall I solve this mighty mystery,
- And to form of fact restore it
- From this shadowy seeming?”
-
- Thus he spake to one who faced him
- With a look of mild surprise,
- One who swiftly brought and placed him
- ’Neath the Abbot’s searching eyes.--
- Leave him there: not mine to rhyme of
- Deeds that filled the latter time of
- Him who, fain tho’ years would waste him,
- Ages not, nor dies.
-
- . . . . . .
-
- Such the wondrous old-time story
- Of the bird’s long, lethal strain
- Sung thro’ Summers hot and hoary,
- Winters white on mount and main
- And the monks, to mark the mission
- Of the bird,--so tells tradition,--
- Built a church to God’s great glory
- There at Ballydrain.
-
-
- XII.
-
- The song has ceased, the dream is done,
- Lo, nought but shattered shrine
- And weed-clad walls greet now the sun
- That sparkles in the brine;
- Yet these no remnant are of dead
- Insalutary days,
- Vicarious blood of morning, shed
- For more than Memphian haze.
-
-
- XIII.
-
- The fires of worship, and of war,
- De Courcey’s marshalled hosts,
- The rude sea-rovers from afar
- Have vanished from our coasts;
- And out of these an ampler field
- Found Freedom, mind and hand,
- Toward unattempted ends to wield
- A world-enchanting wand.
-
-
- XIV.
-
- What tho’ in oft ignoble cause
- The wave of war still rolls,
- The hate of sects, the clutching claws,
- The strife of armoured souls;
- What tho’ the thousands, born to fail,
- In darkness come and go,
- Be ours no pessimistic wail
- Of fear for larger woe;
-
-
- XV.
-
- For even now the dawn doth give
- Some promissory gleams,
- Tho’ most ’tis ours in night to live,
- Participant in dreams
- Of some broad-beamed and brighter morn,
- Some elemental balm,
- Some purer peace, of battle born,
- Some tempest-cradled calm!
-
-[Illustration: text decoration]
-
-[Illustration: text decoration]
-
-
-
-
- Miscellaneous Poems.
-
-
-
-
- Song of Decadence.
-
-
- I wonder if there still remain
- Some echoes from the songs of old;
- Or what the measure of the strain
- The future shall unfold?
-
- The voice that breathed across the years,
- And came, and went, and passed the bar,
- And sang the battle song of tears,
- Sounds small, and faint, and far;
-
- And men have found another chord,
- An offspring, not of heart, but head;
- And gold is God, and lust is Lord,
- And Love lies stricken dead!
-
- Ah, me! the race goes blindly on
- And leaves the old familiar ways;
- And still, earth-weighted, flowers the dawn
- To still ignoble days;
-
- And men, as sheep within their folds,
- Grope round their world with great sad eyes;
- And hate the hand that still withholds
- The secret of the skies;
- Or, deeming God an idle tale
- Withdrawn from lore of ancient shelves,
- Themselves would reckon by the scale
- And measure of themselves!
-
- How mean the stature of the song
- Of our inglorious--glorious time,
- Attenuating, as along
- It moves from that great prime
-
- When Milton, in the midnight hours,
- Lay waiting for the mystic breath
- Of God to touch his soul to flowers
- Of song that smile at Death.
-
- O singers of the years to come!
- Be yours the large and liberal scope:
- Sing sweetly--or for aye be dumb--
- Of God, and Love, and Hope,
-
- Encircled by no little line
- Of gain or loss, of time or sense,
- Nor, bent at Mammon’s soulless shrine,
- Your birth-right part for pence;
-
- But bend an arm across the past,
- And finger all the vibrant years,
- Till sunlight, on our shadows cast,
- Makes rainbows of our tears.
-
-
-
-
- The Railway Arch.
-
-
- There it stands, as it has stood--
- Theme for bards, and theme for seers--
- Mute to sun and tempests rude,
- To the swift express of years;
-
- Stretched across from bank to bank
- Where the rabbits flash and go,
- Where the fir-trees, rank by rank,
- Gaze upon the track below
-
- As the train, at man’s behest,
- In the calm or tempest’s teeth,
- Speeds with lightning in its breast,
- And the thunder underneath.
-
- There in many a rift and rent,
- Many a bird finds friendly cover;
- And the toiler, homeward bent,
- Whistles as he passes over;
-
- And the children from the town
- Climb its parapets and strain
- Half a hundred throats to drown
- With a cheer the passing train.
-
- Yet how many children, toilers,
- List’ to what that arch would say
- To the thousands of earth’s moilers?--
- Dull of ear and listless they!
-
- Ah! adown the track of time,
- In the world’s great sidings lying,
- Many a theme for many a rhyme
- Is unmarked by thousands, flying
-
- After all the fen-fires, darting
- In the damps and swamps of life;
- Fires of meeting and of parting,
- Hate and love, and strain and strife!
-
- There it stands--O! how I love it;
- For it speaks of weal, and woe,
- For the thousands pass above it;
- For the thousands rush below;
-
- And, attune to whirr and clatter,
- Wide and wider does it span,
- High o’er time and sense and matter,
- High o’er life and death and man,
-
- Stretched from age to age unborn;
- And above it in a stream
- Pass, unceasing, night and morn,
- Shapes like those in Jacob’s dream
-
- All the souls of all the ages,
- All the ghosts of all the years,
- Priests and prophets, saints and sages,
- Sweet-breathed bards and broad-browed seers,
-
- Who from many a cloudy station
- List’ the whirring of the wheels
- Bounding on without cessation,
- Dragging progress at their heels;
-
- Who, as children from the town,
- Throng the parapets, and strain
- Form and voice in flashing down
- Warning signals to the train
-
- Speeding on, at man’s behest,
- In the calm, or tempest’s teeth,
- With the lightning in its breast,
- And the thunder underneath!
-
-
-
-
- Schakhe.
-
- (A Ballad of Armenia.)
-
-
- They had fought, they had failed, those women and now,
- in a wild-eyed throng,
- They fled from the red destroyer, and they cried: “O Lord, how long?--
- How long, O Lord, till the ending of the ghastly sounds and sights,
- Till the dripping days be finished, and the thrice red-running nights,--
- Till the last cold corpse falls, severed from the last Armenian head,
- Till the last maid be dishonoured, and the last hot tear be shed?”
-
- They had fled from the red destroyer, but he hastens around their track,
- Till the fate they had flown is before them, and they turn
- in their pathway back.
- But, Northward and Southward and Eastward and Westward,
- and round and round,
- Come the gleam of the steely lightning, and the wild,
- soul-harrowing sound,
- As mother and sister and daughter, and the child at its mother’s breast
- Go down in the surge of slaughter and the wreck of the great Opprest.
- And now they are huddled together, as the death-cries rise and swell,
- Where the rock runs up to Heaven, and the gulf goes down to Hell,--
- On the edge of a beetling hillock; when, lo! from the ’wildered crowd,
- On a peak of the rock steps Schakhe, and calls to her sisters, loud:--
-
- “O sisters in nameless sorrow, baptised in a life of tears;
- Before you two paths lie open: behind you a thousand years
- Fade far in the dusky distance, one long, broad stream of blood,
- That flows by the wreck and ruin of sword and fire and flood!
- Before you two paths lie open: one leads where dangers lurk,
- And the pain and the dumb dishonour from the merciless hand of the Turk.
-
- Choose ye! Will ye thread that pathway, prove false to the men ye love;
- Prove false to the children ye bore them; prove false to the God above?
- Will ye sell yourselves to the spoilers of father and mother and child,
- Who butchered and then, like devils, at their cries for mercy smiled?
- Do ye think of the thousands rotting, flung down in a ghastly heap
- Unblessed; whose dust commingles in their last unhallowed sleep?
- Do ye think of the blood, the sorrow, the wild, sky-rending cries,
- As the scarce-born babe was mangled to feast their fiendish eyes?
- Do you think of the brute defilement when, full in the flare of day,
- Ye were robbed of your dear-prized honour, and made the Moslem’s prey?
- Will ye choose that path, O sisters? ’Tis a path ye have often trod;
- Or throw yourselves on the mercy of the great, all-powerful God?
-
- What though He is veiled in silence, and behind our clouds grown dim;
- If He come not down to help us, then we will go to Him.
- See! there is the other pathway, down, down to the home of Night.
- Jump! long ere the body be broken, the soul will have taken flight.
- He will give His charge to His angels: in their hands
- they will bear thee up,
- As ye tread the Saviour’s pathway, and drink the Saviour’s cup.
- There,--lean on my breast, sweet infant, and good-bye to Earth and woe.
- Now, sisters, the way lies open: I am weary and long to go!”
-
- They had fought: they had failed; and they followed
- brave Schakhe, a martyr throng;--
- And soft o’er the corpse-strewn valley the winds sigh: “Lord, how long?”
-
-
-
-
- In the Giant’s Ring, Belfast.
-
-
- No Shakespeare girdle this, whose girth
- Would compass with its arms
- The sounding seas and snows of earth,
- The fruitful fields and farms.[A]
- Here priestly power has thrown around
- A circuit wide and high,
- A bar where waves of human sound
- Beat vainly, drop, and die.
-
- “Who dreams of war in such a scene
- Of undisturbed repose?
- Who babbles here of spite and spleen?
- Who rhymes of human woes?
- Nought here is heard of mingling cries,
- Of life’s unlovely jars
- Nought here is seen but yonder skies,
- And circling suns and stars!”
-
- O wise in wisdom of the fool!
- O warped in sight and soul!
- O Arctic spirit, icy cool
- As passions of the Pole!
-
- Is ’t but a dream of babe or bard
- That conjures grief and groans?
- Or is thy shrunken heart more hard
- Than those three standing stones?
-
- I dreamed a dream when last I stood
- Within their sombre shade:
- Time took my hand full many a rood
- Beyond the tides of trade,
- Beyond the sacerdotal rite,
- And soul-absorbing creeds,
- Beyond the narrow skirts of sight
- And despicable deeds.
-
- I soared above the brimming Earth;
- I peered beneath its breast;
- I saw the founts of joy and mirth,
- And seats of life’s unrest.
- But in the ocean of its thought
- One current swelled and grew
- And on to seas with blessing fraught
- A thousand others drew.
-
- ’Twas Love: and Time stood by, and said:
- “Behold! a thousand spires
- Speak gilded words from hearts as dead
- As those old Druid fires.
-
- But love lives on and leavens all
- In Earth’s expanding range,
- The height and depth, the rise and fall,
- The first and last of Change.
-
- “Kings pale and perish, dogmas die,
- The world goes slowly on
- To greet an all-unclouded sky,
- To kiss a purer dawn.
- Stript of the garb of mimic worth,
- Freed from his brothers’ ban
- And circumscribing creeds, steps forth
- A newer, nobler man.
-
- “’Twas thus God’s chosen race was bent
- Beneath a tyrant yoke:
- ’Twas thus the hated chains were rent,
- The conqueror’s sceptre broke.
- Thus Babylon to Persia bowed,
- Thus Persia bent to Greece,
- Thus Greece gave place to Rome the proud,
- The Goth broke Roman peace.”
-
- These mighty stones, this giant ring
- Give token of a day
- That died, as dies a dreamt-of thing,
- And passed in dust away,
- Save these, for you--dear heart--and me
- To gaze on, muse, and rhyme:
- “Time conquers all, both bond and free,
- But Love shall conquer Time!”
-
-[Illustration: text decoration]
-
-
-
-
- The Blind Father.
-
-
- I.
-
- So, my son, you came this morning at the blinking of the day,
- “King, and heir for Uther,” riding swiftly shoreward on the spray
- That, within my face, comes blowing from a stranger sea and sky,--
- Felt, not seen--upon whose margin here, a sightless Merlin, I
- Stand, and turn my head and harken to the whisper of the wind
- Borne from seaward on to leeward,--dark before and dark behind.
-
-
- II.
-
- And they say you’re like your father?--How can I know, for I look
- With a dead eye into darkness; yet I’ve felt upon a book
- Something tell me: “In His form and with His likeness made He man:”
- So you’re like your father, and he looks like God--but, ah! the ban,
- A Damocles-blade, keeps hanging, as o’er ancient Adam’s head,
- O’er last moment’s latest Adam, just arisen from the dead.
-
-
- III.
-
- Ban! Who banned you? Is it God, or is it man suspends the knife?
- God decreed you’d toil for bread, but man decrees you’ll die for life!
-
-
- IV.
-
- “From the dead.”--You like the phrase not, wife;
- yet not from death he’s come,
- But from life, of all the ages past the product and the sum.
- Thine and mine,--yet neither mine nor thine, but heir of every hour,
- Drawing through thee from the world’s breast,--we the
- stem and he the flower.
- Ours, and yet not ours; the acorn from its parent will be broke,
- Drop to earth, from earth to heaven stretch the fingers of the oak.
- Acorn--oak, and back to acorn, hedging all the hills of time,
- On and on forever, housing birds of every wing and clime.
- Thus we die,--and thus we die not; mortal, yet immortal we;
- Closely clasping crumbling fingers round the hand of the To Be;
- Flingling out along the ages tendrils that will grip, and twine
- In a slow attenuation down the long posterior line.
-
-
- V.
-
- Thus the generations, marching to an universal strain,
- Start, and stop; and in the starting from Da Capo sing again.
-
-
- VI.
-
- Ah! not ours: yet ours the moulding of a future near or far;
- Ours to set a sun in heaven,--hurl in space a red-eyed star.--
- For I’m told, beyond my curtain there revolveth day and night,
- And among the stars there standeth one that winketh red with fight;
- And you say the glow that lights upon my cheek is from the sun
- Guiding lightning-footed planets as they in their orbits run;
- And I’ve heard that all have sprung from atoms crowding God’s abyss,--
- Mars, the evil-eyed and warlike; Sol, the pivot-point of bliss.
-
-
- VII.
-
- Yes, a weakness, sprung from weakness, weaker waxes, and a strength
- On from strength to strength goes marching, grasping
- God’s right hand at length;
- For the mickle at the shoulder means the muckle at the hand,
- And the hair’s breadth on the compass means the ship upon the land.
-
-
- VIII.
-
- Aye, wife; now I know the reason why you sighed so since we wed:
- You have seen the world hang on you. Don’t you mind, dear, what you read
- Out of Cowper?--where he speaks of how the arrow on the wing
- Falls at last far out of line though small the error at the string.
-
-
- IX.
-
- There he’s: take him! You can rhyme of chubby cheeks, and laughy eyes
- That have housed far down within them little patches of the skies;
- You can paint your glowing pictures, that a tear may wash away
- When a future Vandal stumbles through your dream some after day.
- Mine are coloured from th’ eternal, set by Love in Fancy’s mould,
- Knowing nought of life’s mutations, Summer’s heat or Winter’s cold.
-
-
- X.
-
- So you’ve only come this morning, courier dove with pinions white?
- What’s the news from God, what message from the hidden heart of Night?
-
-[Illustration: text decoration]
-
-
-
-
- Sundry Songs
- and Sonnets.
-
-
-
-
- The Southern Cross.
-
-
- Afar from his wife and his sons and his daughters,
- The fisherman grapples for gain or loss;
- Beneath him the silent midnight waters;
- Above him the blaze of the Southern Cross:
- And ever his thoughts on the breeze hie homeward,
- As he calls to the watcher again and again,--
- “O what of the night: is it dark or bright?”
- And ever there cometh the old refrain,--
- “The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,
- The midnight shadows fly.
- The Cross is bending, the night is ending,
- The day is drawing nigh.”
-
- Again, on the storm-swept winter waters,
- He battles the billows that tumble and toss;
- And he thinks of the weeping of wives and daughters,
- As the clouds fly over the Southern Cross.
- Ah, then in the hour of his heart’s despairing,
- When sheets are rending and cables strain,
- How sweet to his ear come the words of cheer,
- And the sound of the watcher’s old refrain,--
- “The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,
- The midnight shadows fly.
- The Cross is bending, the night is ending,
- The day is drawing nigh.”
-
- . . . . . .
-
- Far out, far out on Life’s wild waters,
- Where storms are howling, where breakers toss,
- How many of earth’s fair sons and daughters
- Are drifting and dragging to gain or loss!
- But ever the Stars of Hope are shining,
- Through calm and tempest, through wind and rain;
- And soft through the night, be it dark or bright,
- The heart still echoes the old refrain,--
- “The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,
- The midnight shadows fly.
- The Cross is bending, the night is ending.
- The day is drawing nigh.”
-
-
-
-
- On the Death of William Morris.
-
-
- I.
-
- Mine eyes beheld thee--but not nigh: mine ear,
- Close to thy page, could feel the beat, beat, beat,
- That told thy great, good heart: now strangers’ feet
- Have borne thee out. Thee? Nay, I have thee here
- Forever young; nor less that eye, so clear,
- Beams brotherhood, nor can the years that fleet
- Leave me more lonely. No hot tear--full meet
- From widowed Friendship--drop I on thy bier.
- Some earth-stained page mars oft fair Friendships’s book;
- And happier I, who saw thro’ Fancy’s light
- Kin only of the sacred singing race,
- Blameless of all that mars familiar sight!--
- Then wherefore should I weep, who skyward look,
- And mark a god move Godward to his place?
-
-
- II.
-
- Perfume of eld, more sweet than all the scent
- Of late-blown roses squandered on the air,
- Sweetens the tawny forest of thy hair,
- And there shall dwell till all the years be spent.
- To thee war’s call with hint of song is blent,
- And time sits easy on the brows of care;
- Love lifts a white affirming hand to swear
- Thee hero of thy heroes,--thou, who went
- To the frore Past. Lo! in its eyes did dance
- Reflection of a day within the wake
- Of some unrisen, kindlier star; and thou
- Didst cry: “Behold, with goodlier days the Now
- Is great, as forests wave in seeds to break,
- And countless thousands pulse in Love’s first glance!”
-
-[Illustration: text decoration]
-
-
-
-
- Copernicus.
-
-
- They deemed, self-centred souls! that those great eyes
- Which star the night, in amorous orbit turned
- And, ever boldly bashful, sighed and burned
- For one earth kiss, and stood within the skies
- Eternally expectant. O most wise
- In your great selves! that rude iconoclast
- His stones of Truth among your dreamings cast,
- And robbed your wisdom of its dear disguise.
- He stood, a Sampson of Titanic force,
- ’Twixt men and God, and swiftly grasped and hurled
- His bolts at callow thoughts of centuries,
- And pivoted th’ unreckoned universe,
- And marked the rhythmic orbit of a world,
- And changed chaotic chords to harmonies!
-
-
-
-
- To Algernon Charles Swinburne.
-
- (To remind him that the Genius of Ireland, nigh twenty centuries
- ago, taught the dull ears of the world the subtleties and charms of
- the rhyme of which he is now acknowledged master.)
-
-
- Moulder of mighty measures and sublime;
- Whose flower of song--how dead soe’er the ground--
- Blossoms: whose feet, from no great depth profound,
- By cloudy slopes to cloudier summits climb!
- What though thou art, in this thy world-broad prime,
- Great King of Song, sceptred and robed and crowned;
- Be it not thine to scorn the narrow round
- Whence broadened out the bounds of later time.
- Not all the message of that far-off chime
- The strident strains of this our day have drowned:
- “Forget not, Singer, whence hath sprung thy rhyme,
- Or whence thy tongue its lofty power hath found;
- Nor squander all thy store in mocking mime,
- Niggard of sense and prodigal of sound.”
-
-
-
-
- Heaven and Earth.
-
-_In the beginning the Heaven and the Earth were wedded together, and
-then was the golden age of joy and beauty. But something occurred which
-destroyed the union, and the Heaven and the Earth were parted amid the
-tears of Nature, which men call the dew._--LEGEND OF SOUTH SEA ISLANDS.
-
-
- Truth in untruth; wisdom on Folly’s tongue,
- And substance in a shadow!--Hear ye this:
- Erewhile, ’mid transports of primeval bliss,
- In starry ears a bridal song was sung,
- And Heav’n and Earth, in mutual rapture, strung
- Ethereal harps, and took one reeling kiss,
- ’Till, seated with much joy, Earth grew remiss:
- But, love was rife, and, ah! the Earth was young.
-
- O trembling tears of dawn in Nature’s eyes!
- Forget your sadness. Lo! methinks the hour
- When recreant Love turns loveward, thrills the dome;
- Earth lifts mute praying hands in tree and flower,
- And Heav’n, in all the windows of the skies,
- Hangs nightly lamps to light the wand’rer home!
-
-
-
-
- On Some Twentieth Century forecasts.
-
-
- O imperturable and silent years,
- That reck not all the riot of our time
- Whose fevered feet, with inharmonious rhyme,
- Royster around thy high phantasmal tiers!
- How mean our mockings of the silent seers
- To read the riddle of th’ Eternal Soul!
- We list’ the thundering life within thy bole,
- And count the hidden harvest that anears,
- And dream our dreams, and smile to see them wrecked!
- Oh, vain insurgence on the unrevealed:
- Enough to map the paths our fathers tracked
- Not, mother-like, kiss yet the face concealed.
- Age ages not the elemental law,
- And we are thou in hope, thou we anew,
- And still beneath are depths whence Shakspere drew,
- And still above are stars that Milton saw!
-
-
-
-
- Ireland.
-
-
- Somewhat of Autumn’s splendour round her lies;
- Yet deem not thou ’tis preface of her death,
- For there is that within her heart which saith
- This word that buds and blossoms in her eyes:--
- “Reck not the portent of the season’s skies,
- Nor deem yon darkling clouds aught but a breath
- Sundrawn from half a world that offereth
- Its votive incense to the year that flies.”
- The hand that bevels down the shortening day
- Is one with that which quickens leaf and wing,
- So prophecy of pregnance in decay
- Thou hast, and in thine Autumn germs of Spring;
- To vindicate these lips, that late have said:
- “They dreamed a lie who deemed thee wholly dead!”
-
-[Illustration: THE LITTLE LIBRARY.
-
-THE FOLLOWING VOLUMES WILL APPEAR IN DUE COURSE:--
-
-1.
-
-The King’s Oak and Other Stories,
-
-By ROBERT CROMIE,
-
-Author of “The Crack of Doom,” “A Plunge into Space,” &c.
-
-These Stories are amongst the best things from the pen of this brilliant
-and popular Irish Author.
-
-
-2.
-
-[_Immediately._
-
-SOCIALISM: ITS STRUCTURAL STUPIDITIES,
-
-By IGNOTUS.
-
-A pungent criticism and confutation of Fabian fallacies.
-
-
-3.
-
-The Eve of the World’s Tragedy;
-
-OR, THE THOUGHTS OF A WORM,
-
-By LOUIS H. VICTORY,
-
-Author of “Lady Rosalind,” “Collected Verses,” “Poems,” “The Higher
-Teaching of Shakespeare,” &c., &c.
-
-
-4.
-
-A VOLUME OF POEMS
-
-By the world-renowned
-
-SAMUEL K. COWAN, M.A., T.C.D.,
-
-Author of “Poems,” “Roses and Rue,” “Idylls of Ireland,” “Play,” “Laurel
-Leaves,” &c., &c.
-
-
-5.
-
-A BOOK OF PROSE
-
-By one of the greatest Irish Writers of his time,
-
-W. B. YEATS,
-
-Author of “The Countess Kathleen,” “Celtic Twilight,” “The Secret Rose,”
-&c., &c.
-
-
-OTHERS TO FOLLOW.]
-
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[Footnote A:
-
-...Put a Girdle round the earth
- In forty minutes.
-]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Legend of the blemished king and other
-poems, by James H. Cousins
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGEND OF THE BLEMISHED KING ***
-
-***** This file should be named 60108-0.txt or 60108-0.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
- http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/0/60108/
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS, Bryan Ness and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
-will be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
-one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
-(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
-permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
-set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
-copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
-protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
-Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
-charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
-do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
-rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
-such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
-research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
-practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
-subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
-redistribution.
-
-
-
-*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
-Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
-http://gutenberg.org/license).
-
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
-all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
-If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
-terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
-entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
-and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
-or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
-collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
-individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
-located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
-copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
-works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
-are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
-Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
-freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
-this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
-the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
-keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
-Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
-a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
-the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
-before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
-creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
-Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
-the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
-States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
-access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
-whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
-copied or distributed:
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
-from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
-posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
-and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
-or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
-with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
-work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
-through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
-Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
-1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
-terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
-to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
-permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
-word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
-distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
-"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
-posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
-you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
-copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
-request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
-form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
-that
-
-- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
- owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
- has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
- Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
- must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
- prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
- returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
- sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
- address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
- the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or
- destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
- and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
- Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
- money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
- of receipt of the work.
-
-- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
-forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
-both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
-Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
-Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
-collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
-"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
-corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
-property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
-computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
-your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
-your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
-the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
-refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
-providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
-receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
-is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
-opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
-WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
-WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
-If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
-law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
-interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
-the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
-provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
-with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
-promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
-harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
-that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
-or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
-work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
-Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
-
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
-including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
-because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
-people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
-To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
-and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
-
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
-Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
-http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
-permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
-Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
-throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
-809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
-business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact
-information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
-page at http://pglaf.org
-
-For additional contact information:
- Dr. Gregory B. Newby
- Chief Executive and Director
- gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
-spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
-SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
-particular state visit http://pglaf.org
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
-To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
-
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
-with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
-Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
-
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
-unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
-keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
-
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
-
- http://www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/60108-0.zip b/old/60108-0.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 1554039..0000000
--- a/old/60108-0.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h.zip b/old/60108-h.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 5b964de..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/60108-h.htm b/old/60108-h/60108-h.htm
deleted file mode 100644
index 7fe5f15..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/60108-h.htm
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,2944 +0,0 @@
-<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
-"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
-
-<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
- <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
-<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
-<title>
- The Project Gutenberg eBook of Legend
-of the blemished king and other poems, by James H. Cousins.
-</title>
-<style type="text/css">
- p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;}
-
-.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;}
-
-.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;}
-
-.lftspc {margin-left:.15em;}
-
-.hang {text-indent:-2%;margin-left:2%;}
-
-.indd {padding-left:2.5em;}
-
-.sans {font-family:sans-serif, serf;}
-
-.nind {text-indent:0%;}
-
-.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;}
-
-.rt {text-align:right;}
-
-small {font-size: 70%;}
-
-big {font-size: 130%;}
-
- h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both;
-font-weight:normal;}
-
- h2 {margin-top:4%;text-align:center;clear:both;font-size:150%;
-font-weight:bold;font-family:sans-serif, serif;}
-
- h3,h4 {margin:4% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both;
-font-size:100%;font-weight:normal;}
-
- hr {width:100%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;}
-
- hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black;
-padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;}
-
- hr.full1 {width: 20em;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black;
-margin-left:4%;margin-right:50%;
-padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;}
-
- table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;}
-
- body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;}
-
-a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;}
-
- link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;}
-
-a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;}
-
-a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;}
-
-.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;}
-
- img {border:none;}
-
-.figcenter {margin-top:3%;margin-bottom:3%;clear:both;
-margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;}
- @media handheld, print
- {.figcenter
- {page-break-before: always;
-page-break-after: avoid;}
- }
-
-.footnotes {border:dotted 3px gray;margin-top:5%;clear:both;}
-
-.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;}
-
-.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;}
-
-.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;}
-
-div.poetry {text-align:center;}
-div.poem {font-size:100%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%;
-display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
-.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;}
-.poem .stanzaital {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;
-font-style:italic;}
-.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 3.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
-.poem span.idtts {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;
-letter-spacing:1em;}
-
-.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute;
-left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray;
-background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;}
-@media print, handheld
-{.pagenum
- {display: none;}
- }
-</style>
- </head>
-<body>
-
-
-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Legend of the blemished king and other poems, by
-James H. Cousins
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Legend of the blemished king and other poems
-
-Author: James H. Cousins
-
-Illustrator: Lewis H. Victory
-
-Release Date: August 16, 2019 [EBook #60108]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGEND OF THE BLEMISHED KING ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS, Bryan Ness and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="nind"><i><big>THE LEGEND</big><br /><br />
-<small><span style="margin-left: 6em;">OF THE</span></small><br /><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><big>BLEMISHED KING</big></span><br /><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 5em;">AND OTHER POEMS.</span></i>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><b>A FEW COPIES REMAINING.</b></p>
-<hr class="full1" />
-
-<p class="cb">The Little Library&mdash;Vol. I.<br /><br />
-<big><big>IDYLLS</big></big><br /><br />
-By LAURA JEAN DOUGLAS.</p>
-
-<p><b>MODERATOR</b> says:&mdash;“Some of the most exquisite prose we have read for many
-a day.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>IRISH NEWS</b> (Belfast) says:&mdash;“In the ten ‘Idylls’ which Miss Douglas
-contributes, we have a group of the sweetest prose poetry possible.... A
-gallery of lovely pictures.... A thing of beauty and a joy for ever....
-The turn-out of the book is equal to anything of the same kind produced
-in London.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>MRS. ALICE A. PITMAN</b>, author of “<b>TALES FROM LONDON LIFE</b>,” says:&mdash;“The
-pictures are beautifully conceived, and elegantly portrayed.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>IRISH FIGARO</b> says:&mdash;“I am grateful to all who essay in a sincere spirit
-the difficult task of making Dublin a book-producing place. In ‘The
-Little Library,’ author, editor, publisher, and draughtsman have
-combined in an honest endeavour to attain that desirable end. The writer
-of ‘Idylls’ gives us ten short prose-poems, of which I take the liberty
-to give the first in its entirety as a specimen. It is entitled, ‘A Rose
-Garden.’... This is a beautiful picture.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>JAMES H. COUSINS</b> says:&mdash;“Beautiful prose fancies.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>IRISH DAILY INDEPENDENT</b> says:&mdash;“The book is beautifully produced, and a
-credit to Dublin.”</p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/leaf.png" width="24" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p><b>SCOTTISH SOCIETY</b> says:&mdash;“The weirdly-covered little book with the
-strange frontispiece which comes to us under the title of ‘Idylls,’ will
-be read with great enjoyment by all whose sense of literary quality is
-sufficiently educated to appreciate the extreme delicacy of
-word-painting in water-colours, if it may be so expressed.... In every
-sense of the word, they are perfect representations of the idyll in its
-purest form,... impossible to criticise, and difficult properly to
-praise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p class="c"><big>THE LITTLE LIBRARY.&mdash;VOL. 2.</big><br />
-<br /><span class="sans">
-EDITED BY M. J. KEATS.</span></p>
-
-<h1>
-<img src="images/title.png"
-alt="The
-Legend of the
-Blemished King
-And Other Poems."
-width="350"
-/></h1>
-
-<p class="c"><small>BY</small><br />
-<b>JAMES H. COUSINS.</b><br />
-<br />
-<i>WITH COVER DRAWN BY LOUIS H. VICTORY.</i><br />
-<br />
-<b>Dublin</b>:<br />
-BERNARD DOYLE, FRANKLIN PRINTING WORKS,<br />
-<span class="smcap">9 Upper Ormond Quay</span>.<br />
-&mdash;&mdash;<br />
-1897.<br /></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/i_005.png" width="320" alt="" title="" />
-<br />
-AND<br />
-<br />
-TO THE COMPANION OF MY WANDERINGS<br />
-<br />
-AMONG MOST<br />
-<br />
-OF THE SCENES HEREIN MENTIONED,<br />
-<br />
-WHOSE PRESENCE<br />
-<br />
-GILDED THE SUN THAT SHINES UPON,<br />
-<br />
-AND PAINTED THE FLOWERS THAT BEDECK<br />
-<br />
-THE<br />
-<br />
-“FAIR HILLS OF HOLY IRELAND.”<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><b><big><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>
-<img src="images/i_007.png"
-width="150"
-alt="CONTENTS."
-/></big></b></h2>
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary="">
-
-<tr><td><a href="#the_legend_of_the_blemished_king"><span class="smcap">The Legend of the Blemished King&mdash;</span></a></td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="indd"><a href="#prologue_at_scrabo_co_down"><span class="smcap">Prologue</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="indd"><a href="#canto_i"><span class="smcap">Canto I.</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="indd"><a href="#canto_ii"><span class="smcap">Canto II.</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="indd"><a href="#canto_iii"><span class="smcap">Canto III.</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_37">37</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="indd"><a href="#canto_iv"><span class="smcap">Canto IV</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#the_legend_of_saint_mahee_of_endrim"><span class="smcap">The Legend of Saint Mahee of Endrim</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#song_of_decadence"><span class="smcap">A Song of Decadence</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#the_railway_arch"><span class="smcap">The Railway Arch</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#schakhe"><span class="smcap">Schakhe</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#in_the_giants_ring_belfast"><span class="smcap">In the Giant’s Ring, Belfast</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_74">74</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#the_blind_father"><span class="smcap">The Blind Father</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#the_southern_cross"><span class="smcap">The Southern Cross</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#on_the_death_of_william_morris"><span class="smcap">On the Death of William Morris</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#copernicus"><span class="smcap">Copernicus</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#to_algernon_charles_swinburne"><span class="smcap">To Algernon Charles Swinburne</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_90">90</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#heaven_and_earth"><span class="smcap">Heaven and Earth</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_91">91</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#on_some_twentieth_century_forecasts"><span class="smcap">On Some Twentieth Century Forecasts</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><a href="#ireland"><span class="smcap">Ireland</span></a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_93">93</a></td></tr>
-
-</table>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><i>EDITOR’S NOTE.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="c">
-<img src="images/i_009.png" width="23" alt="" title="" />
-</p>
-
-<p>Wordsworth, writing a sonnet, having for its subject the sonnet-form,
-said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i10">“To me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In sundry moods, ’twas pastime to be bound<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Within the sonnet’s scanty plot of ground;”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">and all those who have essayed the task of composing in this particular
-form will admit that Wordsworth’s definition&mdash;“scanty plot of
-ground”&mdash;characterises the sonnet’s limitations precisely.</p>
-
-<p>As will be observed in the following pages, Mr. Cousins not only excels
-as a sonneteer; but in “The Legend of the Blemished King” he performs
-the remarkable feat of producing a poem of classical character,
-containing forty-eight stanzas, cast perfectly in the no less difficult
-mould known as the Spenserian stanza&mdash;eight heroic lines, followed by an
-Alexandrine, rhyming thus:&mdash;1, 3; 2, 4, 5, 7; 6, 8, 9.</p>
-
-<p>The subject, however more than the technique, is remarkable. It will
-have an especial attraction for all who are interested in the ancient
-literature of Ireland; and, indeed it should be of universal interest,
-because of the fact that this story of Fergus bears a strong resemblance
-to the Scriptural narrative of Eden and the Fall of Man. It is a kind of
-allegory common to all ancient races, containing in its heart an
-unobtruded moral, wrapped in dramatic incident and decorated with
-charming pictures of land and sea.</p>
-
-<p>It is, in short, what Fiona M’Leod would call a “legendary morality.”</p>
-
-<p>The other poems are equally admirable; and, indeed, however considered,
-I think that this book should prove a valuable addition to the best
-literary products of Ireland.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-M. J. K.<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Deirdre.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Illan, what King was he dwelt here of yore?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Illan.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Fergus, the son of Leide Lithe-o’-limb,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere yet he reigned at Eman, did dwell here.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Deirdre.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What, Fergus Wry-mouth? I have heard of him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And how he came by his ill-favoured name.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Methinks I see him when he rose again<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From combat with the monster, and his face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That had that blemish till love wiped it off,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Serene and ample-featured like a King.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Illan.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Not love but anger, made him fight the beast.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Deirdre.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No, no, I will not have it anger. Love<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Prompts every deed heroic. ’Tis the fault<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of him who did compose the tale at first,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Not to have shown ’twas love unblemished him.<br /></span>
-<span class="idtts">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Fergus.</span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All Erin, shore to shore, shall ring with it<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And poets in the ages yet to come<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Make tales of wonder of it for the world.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i10">“<span class="smcap">Deirdre.</span>”&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ferguson</span><br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h1>
-<img src="images/legend.png" width="310" alt="The Legend of the
-Blemished King." />
-</h1>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="prologue_at_scrabo_co_down" id="prologue_at_scrabo_co_down"></a>
-<img src="images/prologue.png"
-
-alt="Prologue: At Scrabo, Co. Down."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">The rugged rock against the sky<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Heaves high a tower-topped crest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whence widens out beneath the eye<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The realms of East and West.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Here lies a land but seldom sung,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">This crude, majestic crown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And that white sea that moves among<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fertile fields of Down!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">Unsung!&mdash;save when an alien lyre<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A moment’s space was strung,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Browning fanned a little fire,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Helen’s Tower was sung.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet storied homes of sept and clan<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are here, and,&mdash;dim and vague,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Anear and far, Ben Madighan,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Keats-sung Ailsa Craig!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">Unsung!&mdash;and wherefore? lovely land!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hast thou not ample store<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For song, from yonder ocean strand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To Strangford’s shining shore?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Hast thou not throbbed to foamy flanks,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sound of Saxon steel,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To crash of Cromwell’s rattling ranks,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Clansmen of O’Neill?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">And yet, not all thy songful crown<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is strife of right with wrong;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Here, limpid lark-streams trickle down<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A hundred peaks of song;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There, silent sheep and lambkins lie&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A white, uncertain thing&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like lingering snow that fain would spy<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The secret of the spring.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">The roaming robber breezes catch,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And hither upward float,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A lusty lilt and vagrant snatch<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From some far rustic throat;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And blustering bye, with strident shout,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From scenes of festive glee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That libertine of flower and sprout,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The bacchanalian bee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">All life is song:&mdash;and song is life<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To souls with these akin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Unfettered by yon city’s strife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unsullied by its sin!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some part of these fair fields and coast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some waft of phantom wings,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will haunt my heart, a welcome ghost,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A hint of higher things.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanzaital">
-<span class="i0">Dear land of love and happy lot<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of merry maids and swains,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Worthy the martial muse of Scott,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or Virgil’s pastoral strains;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Loved land, this tongue thy song would share<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">This votive soul is thine:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thy lips are loud with praise and prayer,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Pray God they kindle mine!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="the_legend_of_the_blemished_king" id="the_legend_of_the_blemished_king"></a>
-<img src="images/legend2.png"
-
-alt="The Legend of the Blemished King."
-/></h2>
-
-<p>[<span class="smcap">Note</span>:&mdash;I am indebted to “The Ecclesiastical History of Down and
-Connor,” by Rev. James O’Laverty, for the story of the “Blemished King.”
-Believing it to be comparatively unknown, and desiring, as far as lay in
-my power, to spread a knowledge of the interesting stories and legends
-which abound in Irish History and Literature, I translated it into
-verse. I learn, however, that a poem on the same subject has been
-written by the late Sir Samuel Ferguson, under the title of “Fergus
-Wry-mouth.” I can only plead justification for running the inevitable
-gauntlet of comparison between a giant and a pigmy, on the ground that I
-had already committed myself to the publication of the present version
-of the legend before I became aware of the fact mentioned. I have not
-read the poem by Sir Samuel Ferguson, and I shall not do so until after
-this volume is in print; but I have written Lady Ferguson on the matter,
-and she very kindly refuses to see any possible objection to the
-publication of my rendering of the story, seeing that it contains almost
-as many stanzas as there are lines in Sir Samuel’s.</p>
-
-<p>The Loch of Rory (<img src="images/gaelic22.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="85"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>), the centre around which the
-following story moves, is Dundrum Bay. That bay is still remarkable for
-its roar, which has been frequently referred to by ancient writers. Even
-a modern poet (S. K. Cowan, in “Sung by Six”) has written of the bay,
-“where deep seas moan.” Other evidences point to the identity of Rory
-and Dundrum, in opposition to the conjectures of some that the present
-Belfast Lough was the scene of the incidents contained in the “Legend of
-the Blemished King.”&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Author.</span>]</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="canto_i" id="canto_i"></a>CANTO I.</h3>
-
-<h4>I.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Eastward in Eireann lay the Lough of Rory.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The Moon, like some pale huntress, landward led<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her white-toothed hounds betwixt the promontory<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And its far twin. Thither King Fergus sped<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Within his chariot. High his shaggy head<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Clove thro’ the dusky clouds his chargers made;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And o’er his shoulders, far behind him, spread<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Loose locks, and circling cloak, in which arrayed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He, with benignant arm, Ultonia’s sceptre swayed.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>II.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Beside him stood his suremost charioteer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(Muëna, faithful bondsman of his lord,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Favoured in form, and swift of eye and ear),<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Urging with well-skilled hand and timely word<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The flying steeds. The seaward-soaring bird<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Seemed fixed in Heaven, so swift they sped: the day<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lumbered behind, as high the sand they stirred,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And echoes of their wheels that edged the spray<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rolled thro’ the silent hills like thunder far away!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>III.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Onward they whirled. The billows on the beach<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Drew backward in amaze, then, bolder grown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sprang forward to the chase, but far from reach<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The phantom bounded on o’er sand and stone;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till the low clouds that late-born winds had blown<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">About the hills, upon the chariot’s flight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Drew down their brows; or was it they had flown<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thro’ dalliant day into a former night<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That now, with jealous hand, hid shore and sea from sight?<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>IV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then when the day had rallied all its forces,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A splash of glory in a murky west,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Obedient, where it pleased (like men), the horses<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Slackened their speed, and paused, and stood at rest.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Thus far, O King! fulfilled is thy behest,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Muëna said. To whom the King: “To thee<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And me ’twere Heaven in Night’s soft arms carest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To sleep.”&mdash;They slept.&mdash;Without, that smith, the sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On adamantine anvils shaped new shores to be.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>V.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Who knoweth not the spell that lurks in twilight?&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When mystic murmurs float across the world<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From strange, vague forms that hate the brazen highlight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of day, and sleep in hidden corners curled<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till, westward, day has nigh his banner furled.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then fare they forth: rich spoil, in sooth, they found<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where Fergus had his mighty figure hurled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upon the chariot’s floor. They drew around,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Plucked from its sheath his sword, and bore him to the ground,<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>VI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thence to the verge of ocean. Fairy elves,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A thousand strong, the toilsome task essayed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While twice a thousand, perched on rocky shelves,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A wierd accomp’niment of laughter made<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(Timed to their phantom forms that swung and swayed).<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So sweet the sound, ’twould seem the winds, at rest<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For once from warring, ’mong the treetops played:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till, lo, the King, so close they round him prest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Woke, and a struggling trio clasped upon his breast.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>VII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Life for thy life,” they cried: “have mercy, King!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Swift to his feet he sprang. The fairy throng<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Vanished like vapour, save where, in the ring<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of his tight-clasping arms, as swift along<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The dim-seen beach he strode the stones among,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The wriggling remnant of the elvish crew<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Craved mercy.&mdash;“Mercy doth to thee belong,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And ours in turn to render service due.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Clasping them in his arms he toward his chariot drew.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>VIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There lay Muëna, wrapt in peaceful sleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor woke the King his bondsman; but did say<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To those he held his captives: “Through the deep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And under, give me knowledge of the way,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unfearful of the power of wave or spray.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This shall ye grant and live.” “O King, such boon,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus said the elves, “sweeps not beyond our sway;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So shall be thine, ere swings another moon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Skill meet to dare the depths of river and lagoon,<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>IX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Save Rory, whence thou camest; that shalt thou<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ne’er ruffle with thy foot: within its wide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Impassioned breast, from day’s first dawn till now,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And still from now till dawn’s last day, has plied,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And still shall ply, the spirit of the tide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His secret craft. Nor thou nor human kind<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall scan his face and live. All else beside<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is thine when Earth ’s again to Day resigned,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whose advent now is blown on trumpets of the wind.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>X.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So when the morn, like Virtue’s cheek red-blushing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For night’s black deeds, from couch of cloud arose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere yet were heard hoarse caws and dark wings rushing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Athwart the sun, when trailing lines of crows<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hasten to haunts far off that no man knows,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beside the sea stood King and charioteer<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To take the waves’ great secret now from those<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In promise bound, who stand apart, yet near,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where wavelets lift and lay, as if some word to hear.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then spake the first of fairies: “O great King,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thy life was ours&mdash;we spared it; ours was thine<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And thou didst spare us, yet encompassing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thy deed with obligation, line on line,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And promise holding promise,&mdash;me and mine<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To do, and thou to do not. Now the hour<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hath come&mdash;as ne’er before&mdash;when billow and brine<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yield to a mortal every whit of power&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save one&mdash;how suns soe’er may shine or clouds may lower.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Low bowed the Monarch his assenting head.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The elfin chieftain swiftly drew anear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Doffing his hood, long-trailing, ruby red.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lo! on the King ’tis placed. In either ear<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They plant sweet spices, herbs, anointing clear;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And weird enchantments drown the muffled roar<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of throbbing ocean. Then the charioteer<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beholds his master pass the waters o’er,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And stands, a lonely man upon a lonely shore.<br /></span>
-<span class="idtts">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Day brightened in the East, and o’er the waters<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The round sun rose and threw across the wave<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A lambent flame, blood-red, as though from slaughters<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In Orient lands. The breaking surf did lave<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Muëna’s feet: he, wrapt in wonderings grave,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Looked long and wistful, such as lovers do<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To greet their love. At length the wondering slave<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Saw on the deep a form that neared, and grew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And stepped upon the beach&mdash;the King returned anew.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="canto_ii" id="canto_ii"></a>CANTO II.</h3>
-
-<h4>XIV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thenceforth, King Fergus, strong in power new born,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Recked not a restful hour, but, passion-fired,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And strong in strength un’customed, night and morn<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Probed to the farthest deeps his soul desired.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">At such swift speed too soon his soul acquired<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sum of knowledge granted. “All below,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So spake the King, “to which I have aspired<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is mine,&mdash;that earth or ocean can bestow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save one, whose secret fain my mind would grasp and know.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So chafe Restriction’s fetters. So within<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dwelleth for ever ancient Adam’s will.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sweet though the tasted fruit, the fruit unseen,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or seen but yet forbid, is sweeter still.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lord of the land, of river, vale, and hill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">King Fergus stood, and “Wherefore,” thus said he,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“This circumscription? What of greater ill<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dwelleth within the breast of mine own sea<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Than those whose farthest caves have felt the foot of me?<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XVI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I <i>will</i> descend to Rory: haply there<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">May dwell some secret whose resistless charms,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bent to my kindred’s service, danger, care<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall put apart, and shield from hurt or harm<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In council grave or battle’s loud alarm.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What ho, Muëna. Haste my charioteer.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who boasts that weak has grown my kingly arm<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To sweep its path of all restriction clear?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fergus is Fergus still&mdash;and Fergus knows no fear!”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XVII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Muëna heard, and answered word by deed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Soon rolled the chariot round the palace hall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Eastward toward the ocean; steed by steed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Stretched to the task his limbs; their hoofs did fall<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like rain on summer noons. The curlews’ call<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Gave token of the near-approaching end,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And soon before their eyes the ocean wall<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shouldered the shock of waters that extend<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To meet the sky. The King did to the marge descend.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XVIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Know you the Loch of Rory? Sages tell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How, when the sons of Adam felt the force<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of watery judgments, came a vagrant swell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And burst round shores of Eireann. Man and horse,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">King, chief, and clansman, in the widening course<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of high, resistless billows, sank from sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Mong cries from throats in sudden anguish hoarse<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That called, and called, and ceased when fell the night,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And on a stranger shore soft broke the morning’s light.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XIX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Across this shore Ultonia’s King now passed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The waves that rattled up the pebbled strand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rose in their ranks, then low before him cast<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Themselves, and stood aside on either hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The King moved forward. Never magic wand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">More swift compelled submission. Thro’ the spray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As tho’ he trod upon the level land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He took, ’twixt watery walls, a deepening way,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till o’er his head the waves shut out the light of day.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Forward he fared. No swimmer’s opened eye<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">E’er scanned so sweet a sight. In glimmering green<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Slow lightening upward to the watery sky<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That arched the watery world, in softer sheen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than mortals wot of, lay the fairy scene:&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fantastic rocks, sea-flowers that rose and fell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As brushed by silent shapes that moved between<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Him and the darkening distance, fairy cell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And beds of ocean bloom more sweet than Asphodel.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There sat the King adown to scan the world<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of more than wonder. Thither came to sue<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For explanation things that swam, and curled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then circled round, and passed away from view.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Here stood as ’twere a camp, and there a few<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Forms, not of ocean, human arms outspread.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">King Fergus wept to make the sad review<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where those who faced the flood, now dumb and dead,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Slept out the tale of time upon the ocean’s bed.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Short space he sat when, from athwart the deep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There came a sound of horror! Far and near<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A wild commotion rose, as things that creep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or climb, or swim, smitten with sudden fear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Darkened the depths that erst had been so clear.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">King Fergus started upward to his feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And saw, but dimly, toward him quickly steer<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A dreadful shape that came like lightning fleet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And chilled the monarch’s blood such fearful foe to meet.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was the Muirdris!! Nought that men have known<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Could match its awful visage: high upheld<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On ogrish limbs, one moment ape-like grown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It flew along, till, lo! it sank, and swelled<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To size gigantic, while it yelped and yelled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In sound that spake of fury, fiendish ire.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In tremulous awe the King the beast beheld<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bent in its course on devastation dire,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While from its eyeballs streamed malignant lines of fire.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXIV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Round turned the King, and flew as ’twere from Death!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Swift sped the beast within his foamy track.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wreathed round his form the King could feel its breath,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor dared he glance one smallest moment back.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Behind the twain, like tempest-driven rack,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Spread clouds of foam, pointing the path of each.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Above, white billows lashed the shore. His neck<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Muëna, wondering, strained,&mdash;till on the beach<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Swooned the swift-fleeing King beyond the monster’s reach.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But tho’ Muëna wondered as he saw<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His King, ’mid foamy spray, make sudden flight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Far more he wondered as he scanned the flaw<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Upon the King’s wan face, that made the sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">More dreadful than some horror-haunted night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lo! wide apart, and stretched from ear to ear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In sudden aspect of tremendous fright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Gaped, like a cave, his jaws: the eyes, once clear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stared as upon a sight of overmastering fear.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXVI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Muëna bore the King upon his breast<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Into the chariot. There he laid him, dazed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On ample couch, his fevered form to rest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Soft shaded from the sun, that burned and blazed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">High overhead,&mdash;then whipt the steeds, as crazed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From some pursuing phantom. Might and main<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In lightning alternation high they raised<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sure-stepping foot, and over hill and plain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Toward far Emania’s walls their swiftest strength they strain.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="canto_iii" id="canto_iii"></a>CANTO III.</h3>
-
-<h4>XXVII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Not far the sun had fallen, when he drew<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The chargers’ reins beside the circling sweep<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of Royal walls. The gathering clansmen knew<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From foam and steam no slow and leisured creep<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Had been their pace. Their thought took leap on leap<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From sight to meaning. Then upon the floor<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They spied the King recumbent as in sleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And as the form was borne within the door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In others’ eyes they sought the secret o’er and o’er.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXVIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Straightway into the council-room of chiefs<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sages was the limp-limbed body borne.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then spake Muëna: “Lo! a grief of griefs,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ultonia’s hearts are kingless and forlorn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For know ye not how spake the wiseman, born<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To wisdom?&mdash;‘Ne’er shall King with blemish marred<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Reign’: and behold! alas! since this sad morn<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">King Fergus, from Ambition evil-starred,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lies now before your eyes in visage sorely scarred.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXIX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Choose ye a King, to reign within his stead.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He ceased, but answer came not; rather, round<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The silent throng flew questioning glance that said<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unstable vacillation. Not a sound<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Broke cover till one bolder spirit wound<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The trumpet-horn of speech; then left and right,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Leapt forth the hounds of thought, and roof and ground<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Echoed impassioned tongues, and feet bedight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With thong and sandal, plied with each loud speaker’s might.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then spake the sons of wisdom, they who stood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Apart in silent conclave, while the din<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of ineffectual babblings drew no rood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">More near conclusion: “Hear, Ultonian kin!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What arm so strong Ultonia’s wars to win,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Foster the strength of strong, inspire the weak?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lives there a soul full fit to stand within<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Monarch’s room? What worthier do you seek<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To guide the reins of peace, or would ye other? Speak!”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“None! none!” the multitudinous answer rang<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unanimous. (King Fergus, with a sigh,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Turned in his sleep. Perchance he dreamed there sang<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some bard of deeds their fathers did.) The cry<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thrilled through the chamber’s walls, and far and nigh<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Found answer in a thousand throats, that gave<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their yet unmeaning plaudits to the sky;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And as, in sound like shoreward-shrieking wave<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They shout, the secret they in others’ faces crave.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Without, the crowd swayed back and forth, with din<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Low-muffled, as the sea doth surge and sway<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In silken swell, from storm gone past. Within<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was calm, and brows determined sought a way<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Through that old law to write emphatic “Nay!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then quoth the wisemen’s chief: “Our path is plain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Our hearts upon our tongues have said their say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Fergus o’er Ultonia’s host shall reign,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If but to meet our thoughts your constant strength ye strain.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Let fools and babblers take their journey far,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And silent sit as sent’nel to your speech.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What wots the King of that which him doth mar<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If but the knowledge in the breast of each<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Be locked beyond a thought’s long-arméd reach<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till forced forgetfulness doth rust the key<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or haply lose it. E’en your art let teach<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The water to forget his form to see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or give it back, when to ablution cometh he.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXIV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Approval shone within their eyes. Their tongues<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In loud assent gave forth: “Fergus is King!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And once again without, untutored lungs<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Caught up the cry, nor knew what meant the thing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Till, like a mighty bird, on fresh-plumed wing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Royal chariot once again did shake<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rampart and roof, as champing steeds did fling<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their heads on high, and sped by mount and brake<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To scenes of less surprise when Fergus should awake.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="idtts">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span></p>
-
-<h4>XXXV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What need to sing of deeds within the scope<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of thrice a dozen moons? What need to tell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How fared the King when, by the sanded slope<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where twice a day the sea-waves fret and swell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He woke? Or devious deeds that oft befell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Clansman and chief in those high-sounding days<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of war-girt peace&mdash;a Heaven ringed round with Hell&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or battle’s loud-lunged shout, or conquest’s blaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or how the blemished King ne’er on his fault did gaze.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="canto_iv" id="canto_iv"></a>CANTO IV.</h3>
-
-<h4>XXXVI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Twas thus&mdash;and thus, when thrice a year had sped<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">King Fergus of his blemish happed to know:&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I go to mine ablutions (so he said<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unto his bond-maid), girl, the task you know<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of preparation. Haste you, for I go<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On mighty mission!” P’r’aps ’twas Fate’s decree<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The maiden’s arm in service seemed full slow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Fergus, strained of nerve, was swift to see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In microscopic faults, some slight of majesty.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXVII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Howbeit,&mdash;the fire to firelike will give blaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And progeny of one small word or deed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Count thousand-thousand. Half in wide amaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And half in wild vexation that slow heed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The maiden gave to that his will decreed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He strode into her presence: then on high<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He raised the stinging lash his stout-skinned steed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oft felt, and flinched, and, drawing swiftly nigh,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its serpent hiss was drowned in the smit’ maiden’s cry.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXVIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“A curse upon your laggard form!” he hissed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The smitten girl swift raised her flashing eyes<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In scarlet indignation, nor was missed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The blemish on the Monarch’s face. She cries:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“King Fergus, heartless coward! I loathe, despise<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Your craven hand, nor e’en a word would deign,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But that I deem your spirit’s shape and size<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Must match your brute-like visage.” Purpling plain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With rage, he drew his sword and cut the maid in twain.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XXXIX.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A maddened moment’s deed! And when the storm<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was past, the King in calm the wreck surveyed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of his own making. Towering o’er the form<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Prostrate and purple, holding still the blade<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wet with her life, he stood as sore dismayed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Muttering: “Visage! Visage!” still the word<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beat inward on his ’wildered brain, nor stayed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till that grim truth, long hid, to sight restored,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Burst on his mind. He turned, still clasping tight the sword.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XL.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Three steps beyond the portal of the room<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where lay the maid, he stopped and cast a look<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Backward,&mdash;a look portentous of dark doom<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To all beneath its ban. Aloft he shook<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The bleeding blade; then cried, till every nook,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">E’en to the farthest of the farthest halls,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Trembled; and, as he called, his way he took<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down corridors that held his foot’s swift falls<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till cry and footfall blent without the castle walls.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The cry was: “Visage! Visage! Death and blood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To what has wrought the ruin of yon maid,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That hideous habitant of Rory’s flood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who plies&mdash;mayhap not long&mdash;his secret trade;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And mine ambition that such depths essayed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As strained the strength of me. Yet, not for nought<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fiend was found, tho’ fled I sore dismayed:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some lesson yet is there, tho’ anguish-taught;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some profit yet remains, tho’ it in blood be bought.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">One falleth&mdash;that foul spirit: then is past<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Temptation of ambition; but, perchance<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mine arm may fail: sobeit, then is cast<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Away the secret.” On did he advance.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And one who saw his eyeballs’ lightning glance,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And marked his mood and manner, thro’ the crowd<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Spread rumouring words, keen, swift as strong-threwn lance,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That drew them forth, a multitude, all browed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With wonderment that grew with each swift stride, till, loud<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And deep before them, Rory swells and swings.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Behold! the King nor pauses, nor aside<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Turns in his track.&mdash;Not mine to tell of things<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Run riot in those minds that edged the tide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where late the billows did King Fergus hide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor gave of him a token, save the swell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of giant strivings in the waters wide,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one wild wave that, as from heart of Hell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Leaped for the shore and ’mong the wondering warriors fell.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLIV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And thereupon arose confusion, such<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As ne’er was seen before, and ne’er again<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shall e’er be seen. With tops that seemed to touch<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The heights of Heaven arose the strenuous main<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In wild tumultuous strivings, till the brain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of those beholders whirled, and they that spake<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In terror seemed all voiceless, for in vain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Speech called at its own ears. All heaven did make<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sound at whose dreadful voice all earth did seem to shake.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLV.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And far across the world a tempest bore<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sounds of a conflict such as never yet<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Man’s eyes beheld,&mdash;e’en to the cloudy shore<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of distant Britain: there did they beget<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Vague words of wonder. Ere the sun had set<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Within a stormy west nor man nor maid<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of all Ultonia but with spray was wet<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As, lo! from each far hill, each distant glade<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Long thousands shoreward drew with wide-eyed wonder swayed.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLVI.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And when it seemed as if the heavens swam<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In wild bewilderment,&mdash;each starry sphere<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Would topple earthward, straightway fell a calm<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That laid a hush upon the heart of fear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And soothed both sea and sky, till softest tear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Would drop with sound of cataracts in the glen.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And thus they waited what should next appear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Uncounted thousands of full-armëd men,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bards, chieftans, clansmen, women, maids, youths, children:&mdash;then<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLVII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As if the sea had stolen half the glow<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the sunk sun, the quiet Loch flushed red,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lengthened day, e’en tho’ the day did go<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To other lands. “Some portent this,” they said,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Of the fight’s finish: one hath joined the dead&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which, shall appear full soon.”&mdash;Lo! on the sea<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What form is yon that waves a hideous head<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Within its hand? They gaze, they shout: “<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis he,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fergus, Ultonia’s King. Fergus hath victory!”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4>XLVIII.</h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then that red glory brightened, and they scanned<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The King’s marred visage&mdash;marred?&mdash;nay, pure and bright<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As erst in youth! He called: “With this right hand<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nerved with the fury of revengeful might,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I fought&mdash;and won! I’ve lived my day; now night<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Doth wrap its blackness round me: I but pay<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The price of mine own deed.” And from their sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He sank beneath the waters of the bay<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which rolled in waves of blood for many a devious day!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="the_legend_of_saint_mahee_of_endrim" id="the_legend_of_saint_mahee_of_endrim"></a>
-<img src="images/mahee.png"
-
-alt="The Legend of St. Mahee of Endrim."
-/></h2>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><img src="images/mahee2.png"
-
-alt="The Legend of Saint Mahee of Endrim."
-/></h2>
-
-<p class="c">To J. A. Gregg.<br />&mdash;&mdash;
-</p>
-
-<p>[<span class="smcap">Note.</span>&mdash;Saint Mahee
-(<img src="images/gaelic51a.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="65"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>) was born about 420 <small>A.D.</small>,
-founded the Abbey of Endrim (<img src="images/gaelic51b.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="78"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>&mdash;the single ridge),
-on the beautiful island bearing that name, about 450, and died in the
-year 496 or 497. For several centuries the Abbey, in which education and
-religion were combined, occupied a prominent position, and turned out a
-number of subsequent founders of similar institutions. Between 974 and
-1178 history is silent in regard to it, but it is certain that, from its
-position on Cuan (<img src="images/gaelic51c.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="45"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>&mdash;a lough, now Strangford),
-which was infested by Danish marauders, it came in for a large share of
-their devastating attentions. From the date of its affiliation with an
-English educational establishment, 1178, it seems to have fallen on evil
-days, and in 1450 it is simply noted as a Parish Church in the charge of
-the Bishop of Down.</p>
-
-<hr style="width:10%;" />
-
-<p>The Island of Endrim&mdash;or, as it is now called, in memory of its Patron
-Saint, Mahee&mdash;is situated most picturesquely on Strangford Lough, about
-seven miles from Comber, Co. Down, and is approachable on foot or car by
-a modern causeway-road, which crosses an intervening island. On the
-shoreward end of the island may be seen many remnants of the stone
-buildings which superseded the original wooden structures. These
-remnants include the stump of a round tower; traces of extensive
-foundations once laid bare by the late Bishop Reeves, but now almost
-entirely hidden from view; the site of the harbour where anchored “ships
-from Britain;” evidences of a hallowed God’s-acre, and a fairly complete
-castle of a later period. The circuit of the island can be made on foot
-leisurely in a couple of hours, and the walk affords a view of the
-extensive waters of the once Dane-infested lough, the distant hoary
-walls of Greyabbey, the haunts of Saint Patrick, the reputed scene of
-the death<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span>
-of Ollav Fola
-(<img src="images/gaelic52a.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="105"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>, the lawgiver of Erin),
-and the martial deeds of De Courcey.</p>
-
-<p>Ballydrain, about half-way between Comber and Mahee Island, is so-called
-from
-<img src="images/gaelic52b.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="50"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>, a townland, and
-<img src="images/gaelic52c.png"
-style="vertical-align:middle;"
-width="75"
-alt="Word in Gaelic"
-/>, a
-blackthorn tree; and the reader will observe the connection between this
-place and the Island of Mahee. No trace of a church has yet been
-discovered at Ballydrain.</p>
-
-<p>The idea contained in the Legend has been variously rendered by several
-eminent authors. The incident in which it is here embodied may, however,
-be fairly claimed as the oldest version&mdash;the original, in fact.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The
-Author.</span>]</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Lo! right and left, in calm repose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are spread unnumbered isles,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Between whose shores the bluff breeze blows,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sungilt Strangford smiles.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The shoreward way our feet have left<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Below, still winds along<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where strenuous waves, in eddy and cleft,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Croon low their iterant song.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>II.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Bright in the passionate, tremulous rays<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From cloudy towers of day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yon crumbling castle seems to gaze<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">At castles far away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like parted friends of other years<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who meet, nor waste a word,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But wondering stand, and smile thro’ tears<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From depths unfathomed stirred.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>III.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Here may we rest, and make our seat<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">On this high rock-strewn mound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Put off our shoes from off our feet”&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We tread on holy ground<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The haunts where many a sandalled sole<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Trod out life’s lust and woe,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, stedfast set to one high goal,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Went down in dust below.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>IV.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No stone is theirs engraven large<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With record born of strife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No gilded scroll, no carven marge,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No legend loud with life.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Far other deeds than men applaud<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their holy hands essayed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In life viceregent here of God,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In death still undismayed.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>V.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No fluctuant favours&mdash;servile spouse<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of princes’ transient smile&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Did e’er bedeck their sacred brows,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their saintly souls defile:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No life-warm lips their own had kissed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(Earth’s hope-inspiring dove)&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their life was one long Eucharist<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Eternalised in love.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VI.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The workers went; the works remain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Time here small kingship owns.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thro’ ’whelming winds, thro’ sun and rain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Have lived these lichened stones,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And that brief tower upreared by those<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose dread was from the deep,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In strife their strength, in peace repose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their guardian now in sleep.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thine eyes, old tower, have scanned the scroll<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And palimpsest of Earth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And fain would we thy thoughts unroll<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thro’ years of bliss or dearth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For thou from thy calm height dost look<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With sage, dispassionate eye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To where the star of day-dawn shook<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Within a youthful sky.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VIII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We deem thee old; but age is not<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A toll of hours and days,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mean measure of our little lot<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And arbitrary ways.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We run our little round of change<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thro’ years of less or more,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But Time to thee holds nought of strange,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Unheard, unseen before.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>IX.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Down paths of night no starrier balls<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No new Milanion throws;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thro’ no transfigured day’s high halls<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Th’ itinerant breeze still blows;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Belligerent ever, baffled still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Th’ importunate surges swing;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still dear as dawn th’ ecstatic thrill<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And prophet power of Spring.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>X.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Wrapt in a dream of ancient days<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thou stand’st aloof from ours,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet nought hast thou of battle’s blaze<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or blighting iron showers;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For well-beloved art thou of moon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sun, and winds, and stars,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Forever in thy heart attune<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To every statelier bars<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>XI.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Than aught my highest hope could know<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In this inspiring breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where wilding blossoms bloom and blow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As life blooms out of death;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet fain, withal, my lips would wed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To song, for modern ears,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This chord from lyric days long dead,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">This dream from epic years:<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h4><span class="smcap">The Legend.</span></h4>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Quoth good Saint Mahee of Endrim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“I shall build for Christ my master<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Here a church, and here defend him<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And His cause from all disaster.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Seven score youths cut beam and wattle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Seven score hands unseared in battle<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their unstinted aid did lend him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Fast and ever faster.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">But tho’ arm, and voice loud-ringing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">To a test of toil defied him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Right and left the wattles flinging,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Not a tongue could dare deride him<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For, before them all, he stood<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Finished, waiting. Not a rood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From the spot a bird was singing<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">In a thorn beside him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Sang no bird in ancient story<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Half so sweet or loud a strain:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Seaward to the Lough of Rory,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Landward then, and back again,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Swelled the song, and trilled and trembled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">O’er the toiling youths assembled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rang around ’mid Summer glory<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">There at Ballydrain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Far more beautiful the bird was<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Than the bright-plumed Bird of Bliss<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the Abbot’s feeling stirred was<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">To its deepest depths, I wis;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Till, as from the fiery splendour<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Moses saw, in accents tender<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Spake the bird, and lo, the word was:<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“Goodly work is this!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">“True,” quoth Saint Mahee of Endrim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis required by Christ my master<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Here to build, and here defend Him<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And His cause from all disaster;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But my blood mounts high with weening<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of this goodly word the meaning?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nearer then the bird did tend him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Fast and even faster.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">“I shall answer. I descended<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">From mine angel-soul’s compeers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From my home serene and splendid<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">To this haunt of toil and tears;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Came to cheer thee with a note<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From an angel’s silvern throat.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then he sang three songs: each, ended,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Made a hundred years.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">There, thro’ days that dawned and darkened,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">With his wattles by his side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Stood the island Saint and hearkened<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">To that silvery-flowing tide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stood entranced, and ever wondr’éd,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till had circled thrice a hundred<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Years o’er fields, life-lade or stark, and<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Strangford’s waters wide.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Then when came the final number,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Ceased the angel-bird its strain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And, unheld by ills that cumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Mortals, sought the heavenly plain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then the Saint, in mute amaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Round him turned an anxious gaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And from that far land of slumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Came to Earth again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Low his load, mid weed and flower,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Lay beside him all unbroken,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till, with thrice augmented power,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">From his holy dream awoken,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Up he bore it to his shoulder&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Broad and not a hand’s breath older.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Scarce, thought he, had passed an hour<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Since the bird had spoken.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Toward his island church he bore it.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Lo, an oratory gleaming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And “To Saint Mahee,” writ o’er it!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“Now,” quoth he, “in faith I’m dreaming!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Say, good monk, at whose consistory<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shall I solve this mighty mystery,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And to form of fact restore it<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">From this shadowy seeming?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Thus he spake to one who faced him<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">With a look of mild surprise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">One who swiftly brought and placed him<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">’Neath the Abbot’s searching eyes.&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Leave him there: not mine to rhyme of<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Deeds that filled the latter time of<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Him who, fain tho’ years would waste him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Ages not, nor dies.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="idtts">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">Such the wondrous old-time story<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Of the bird’s long, lethal strain<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sung thro’ Summers hot and hoary,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Winters white on mount and main<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the monks, to mark the mission<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of the bird,&mdash;so tells tradition,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Built a church to God’s great glory<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">There at Ballydrain.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>XII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The song has ceased, the dream is done,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lo, nought but shattered shrine<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And weed-clad walls greet now the sun<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That sparkles in the brine;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet these no remnant are of dead<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Insalutary days,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Vicarious blood of morning, shed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For more than Memphian haze.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>XIII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The fires of worship, and of war,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">De Courcey’s marshalled hosts,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The rude sea-rovers from afar<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Have vanished from our coasts;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And out of these an ampler field<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Found Freedom, mind and hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Toward unattempted ends to wield<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A world-enchanting wand.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>XIV.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What tho’ in oft ignoble cause<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The wave of war still rolls,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hate of sects, the clutching claws,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The strife of armoured souls;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What tho’ the thousands, born to fail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In darkness come and go,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Be ours no pessimistic wail<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of fear for larger woe;<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>XV.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For even now the dawn doth give<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some promissory gleams,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ most ’tis ours in night to live,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Participant in dreams<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of some broad-beamed and brighter morn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some elemental balm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some purer peace, of battle born,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some tempest-cradled calm!<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_057.png" width="50" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_058.png" width="175" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span></p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="miscellaneous_poems" id="miscellaneous_poems"></a>
-<img src="images/miscellaneous.png"
-
-alt="Miscellaneous Poems."
-/></h2>
-
-<h2><a name="song_of_decadence" id="song_of_decadence"></a>
-<img src="images/song.png"
-
-alt="Song of Decadence."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I wonder if there still remain<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some echoes from the songs of old;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or what the measure of the strain<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The future shall unfold?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The voice that breathed across the years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And came, and went, and passed the bar,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sang the battle song of tears,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sounds small, and faint, and far;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And men have found another chord,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">An offspring, not of heart, but head;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And gold is God, and lust is Lord,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Love lies stricken dead!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ah, me! the race goes blindly on<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And leaves the old familiar ways;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still, earth-weighted, flowers the dawn<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To still ignoble days;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And men, as sheep within their folds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Grope round their world with great sad eyes;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And hate the hand that still withholds<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The secret of the skies;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or, deeming God an idle tale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Withdrawn from lore of ancient shelves,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Themselves would reckon by the scale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And measure of themselves!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">How mean the stature of the song<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of our inglorious&mdash;glorious time,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Attenuating, as along<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It moves from that great prime<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When Milton, in the midnight hours,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lay waiting for the mystic breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of God to touch his soul to flowers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of song that smile at Death.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">O singers of the years to come!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Be yours the large and liberal scope:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sing sweetly&mdash;or for aye be dumb&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of God, and Love, and Hope,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Encircled by no little line<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of gain or loss, of time or sense,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor, bent at Mammon’s soulless shrine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your birth-right part for pence;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But bend an arm across the past,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And finger all the vibrant years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till sunlight, on our shadows cast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Makes rainbows of our tears.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="the_railway_arch" id="the_railway_arch"></a>
-<img src="images/railway.png"
-
-alt="The Railway Arch."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There it stands, as it has stood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Theme for bards, and theme for seers&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mute to sun and tempests rude,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the swift express of years;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Stretched across from bank to bank<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where the rabbits flash and go,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where the fir-trees, rank by rank,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Gaze upon the track below<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As the train, at man’s behest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the calm or tempest’s teeth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Speeds with lightning in its breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the thunder underneath.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There in many a rift and rent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Many a bird finds friendly cover;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the toiler, homeward bent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whistles as he passes over;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the children from the town<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Climb its parapets and strain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Half a hundred throats to drown<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a cheer the passing train.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Yet how many children, toilers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">List’ to what that arch would say<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To the thousands of earth’s moilers?&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dull of ear and listless they!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ah! adown the track of time,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the world’s great sidings lying,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Many a theme for many a rhyme<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is unmarked by thousands, flying<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">After all the fen-fires, darting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the damps and swamps of life;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fires of meeting and of parting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hate and love, and strain and strife!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There it stands&mdash;O! how I love it;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For it speaks of weal, and woe,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the thousands pass above it;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the thousands rush below;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And, attune to whirr and clatter,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wide and wider does it span,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">High o’er time and sense and matter,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">High o’er life and death and man,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Stretched from age to age unborn;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And above it in a stream<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pass, unceasing, night and morn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shapes like those in Jacob’s dream<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All the souls of all the ages,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All the ghosts of all the years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Priests and prophets, saints and sages,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sweet-breathed bards and broad-browed seers,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Who from many a cloudy station<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">List’ the whirring of the wheels<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bounding on without cessation,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dragging progress at their heels;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Who, as children from the town,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Throng the parapets, and strain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Form and voice in flashing down<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Warning signals to the train<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Speeding on, at man’s behest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the calm, or tempest’s teeth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With the lightning in its breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the thunder underneath!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="schakhe" id="schakhe"></a>
-<img src="images/schakhe.png"
-
-alt="Schakhe."
-/></h2>
-
-<p class="c">(A Ballad of Armenia.)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They had fought, they had failed, those women and now, in a wild-eyed throng,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They fled from the red destroyer, and they cried: “O Lord, how long?&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How long, O Lord, till the ending of the ghastly sounds and sights,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till the dripping days be finished, and the thrice red-running nights,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till the last cold corpse falls, severed from the last Armenian head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till the last maid be dishonoured, and the last hot tear be shed?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They had fled from the red destroyer, but he hastens around their track,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till the fate they had flown is before them, and they turn in their pathway back.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But, Northward and Southward and Eastward and Westward, and round and round,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Come the gleam of the steely lightning, and the wild, soul-harrowing sound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As mother and sister and daughter, and the child at its mother’s breast<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Go down in the surge of slaughter and the wreck of the great Opprest.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now they are huddled together, as the death-cries rise and swell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where the rock runs up to Heaven, and the gulf goes down to Hell,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On the edge of a beetling hillock; when, lo! from the ’wildered crowd,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On a peak of the rock steps Schakhe, and calls to her sisters, loud:&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“O sisters in nameless sorrow, baptised in a life of tears;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Before you two paths lie open: behind you a thousand years<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fade far in the dusky distance, one long, broad stream of blood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That flows by the wreck and ruin of sword and fire and flood!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Before you two paths lie open: one leads where dangers lurk,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the pain and the dumb dishonour from the merciless hand of the Turk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Choose ye! Will ye thread that pathway, prove false to the men ye love;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Prove false to the children ye bore them; prove false to the God above?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will ye sell yourselves to the spoilers of father and mother and child,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who butchered and then, like devils, at their cries for mercy smiled?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Do ye think of the thousands rotting, flung down in a ghastly heap<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Unblessed; whose dust commingles in their last unhallowed sleep?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Do ye think of the blood, the sorrow, the wild, sky-rending cries,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the scarce-born babe was mangled to feast their fiendish eyes?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Do you think of the brute defilement when, full in the flare of day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ye were robbed of your dear-prized honour, and made the Moslem’s prey?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will ye choose that path, O sisters? ’Tis a path ye have often trod;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or throw yourselves on the mercy of the great, all-powerful God?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What though He is veiled in silence, and behind our clouds grown dim;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If He come not down to help us, then we will go to Him.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">See! there is the other pathway, down, down to the home of Night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Jump! long ere the body be broken, the soul will have taken flight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He will give His charge to His angels: in their hands they will bear thee up,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As ye tread the Saviour’s pathway, and drink the Saviour’s cup.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There,&mdash;lean on my breast, sweet infant, and good-bye to Earth and woe.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now, sisters, the way lies open: I am weary and long to go!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They had fought: they had failed; and they followed brave Schakhe, a martyr throng;&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And soft o’er the corpse-strewn valley the winds sigh: “Lord, how long?”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="in_the_giants_ring_belfast" id="in_the_giants_ring_belfast"></a>
-<img src="images/giant.png"
-
-alt="In the Giant’s Ring, Belfast."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No Shakespeare girdle this, whose girth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Would compass with its arms<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sounding seas and snows of earth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fruitful fields and farms.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Here priestly power has thrown around<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A circuit wide and high,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A bar where waves of human sound<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beat vainly, drop, and die.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Who dreams of war in such a scene<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of undisturbed repose?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who babbles here of spite and spleen?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who rhymes of human woes?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nought here is heard of mingling cries,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of life’s unlovely jars<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nought here is seen but yonder skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And circling suns and stars!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">O wise in wisdom of the fool!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O warped in sight and soul!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">O Arctic spirit, icy cool<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As passions of the Pole!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Is ’t but a dream of babe or bard<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That conjures grief and groans?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or is thy shrunken heart more hard<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than those three standing stones?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I dreamed a dream when last I stood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Within their sombre shade:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Time took my hand full many a rood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beyond the tides of trade,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beyond the sacerdotal rite,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And soul-absorbing creeds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beyond the narrow skirts of sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And despicable deeds.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I soared above the brimming Earth;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I peered beneath its breast;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I saw the founts of joy and mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And seats of life’s unrest.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But in the ocean of its thought<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">One current swelled and grew<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And on to seas with blessing fraught<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A thousand others drew.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Twas Love: and Time stood by, and said:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Behold! a thousand spires<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Speak gilded words from hearts as dead<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As those old Druid fires.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But love lives on and leavens all<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In Earth’s expanding range,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The height and depth, the rise and fall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The first and last of Change.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Kings pale and perish, dogmas die,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The world goes slowly on<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To greet an all-unclouded sky,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To kiss a purer dawn.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stript of the garb of mimic worth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Freed from his brothers’ ban<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And circumscribing creeds, steps forth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A newer, nobler man.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Twas thus God’s chosen race was bent<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beneath a tyrant yoke:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas thus the hated chains were rent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The conqueror’s sceptre broke.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus Babylon to Persia bowed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus Persia bent to Greece,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus Greece gave place to Rome the proud,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The Goth broke Roman peace.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">These mighty stones, this giant ring<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Give token of a day<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That died, as dies a dreamt-of thing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And passed in dust away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save these, for you&mdash;dear heart&mdash;and me<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To gaze on, muse, and rhyme:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Time conquers all, both bond and free,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But Love shall conquer Time!”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_073.png" width="75" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="the_blind_father" id="the_blind_father"></a>
-<img src="images/blind.png"
-
-alt="The Blind Father."
-/></h2>
-
-<h3>I.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So, my son, you came this morning at the blinking of the day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“King, and heir for Uther,” riding swiftly shoreward on the spray<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That, within my face, comes blowing from a stranger sea and sky,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Felt, not seen&mdash;upon whose margin here, a sightless Merlin, I<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stand, and turn my head and harken to the whisper of the wind<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Borne from seaward on to leeward,&mdash;dark before and dark behind.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>II.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And they say you’re like your father?&mdash;How can I know, for I look<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a dead eye into darkness; yet I’ve felt upon a book<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Something tell me: “In His form and with His likeness made He man:”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><span class="i0">So you’re like your father, and he looks like God&mdash;but, ah! the ban,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A Damocles-blade, keeps hanging, as o’er ancient Adam’s head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">O’er last moment’s latest Adam, just arisen from the dead.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>III.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ban! Who banned you? Is it God, or is it man suspends the knife?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">God decreed you’d toil for bread, but man decrees you’ll die for life!<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>IV.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“From the dead.”&mdash;You like the phrase not, wife; yet not from death he’s come,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But from life, of all the ages past the product and the sum.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thine and mine,&mdash;yet neither mine nor thine, but heir of every hour,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Drawing through thee from the world’s breast,&mdash;we the stem and he the flower.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ours, and yet not ours; the acorn from its parent will be broke,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Drop to earth, from earth to heaven stretch the fingers of the oak.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Acorn&mdash;oak, and back to acorn, hedging all the hills of time,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On and on forever, housing birds of every wing and clime.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thus we die,&mdash;and thus we die not; mortal, yet immortal we;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Closely clasping crumbling fingers round the hand of the To Be;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Flingling out along the ages tendrils that will grip, and twine<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In a slow attenuation down the long posterior line.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>V.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thus the generations, marching to an universal strain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Start, and stop; and in the starting from Da Capo sing again.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VI.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ah! not ours: yet ours the moulding of a future near or far;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ours to set a sun in heaven,&mdash;hurl in space a red-eyed star.&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I’m told, beyond my curtain there revolveth day and night,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And among the stars there standeth one that winketh red with fight;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And you say the glow that lights upon my cheek is from the sun<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Guiding lightning-footed planets as they in their orbits run;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I’ve heard that all have sprung from atoms crowding God’s abyss,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mars, the evil-eyed and warlike; Sol, the pivot-point of bliss.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Yes, a weakness, sprung from weakness, weaker waxes, and a strength<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On from strength to strength goes marching, grasping God’s right hand at length;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the mickle at the shoulder means the muckle at the hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the hair’s breadth on the compass means the ship upon the land.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>VIII.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Aye, wife; now I know the reason why you sighed so since we wed:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You have seen the world hang on you. Don’t you mind, dear, what you read<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of Cowper?&mdash;where he speaks of how the arrow on the wing<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Falls at last far out of line though small the error at the string.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>IX.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There he’s: take him! You can rhyme of chubby cheeks, and laughy eyes<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That have housed far down within them little patches of the skies;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You can paint your glowing pictures, that a tear may wash away<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When a future Vandal stumbles through your dream some after day.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mine are coloured from th’ eternal, set by Love in Fancy’s mould,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Knowing nought of life’s mutations, Summer’s heat or Winter’s cold.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>X.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So you’ve only come this morning, courier dove with pinions white?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What’s the news from God, what message from the hidden heart of Night?<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_078.png" width="55" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><img src="images/sundry.png"
-width="400"
-alt="Sundry Songs
-and Sonnets."
-/>
-</h2>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="the_southern_cross" id="the_southern_cross"></a>
-<img src="images/southern.png"
-
-alt="The Southern Cross."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Afar from his wife and his sons and his daughters,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fisherman grapples for gain or loss;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beneath him the silent midnight waters;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Above him the blaze of the Southern Cross:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And ever his thoughts on the breeze hie homeward,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he calls to the watcher again and again,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“O what of the night: is it dark or bright?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And ever there cometh the old refrain,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The midnight shadows fly.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">The Cross is bending, the night is ending,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The day is drawing nigh.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again, on the storm-swept winter waters,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He battles the billows that tumble and toss;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he thinks of the weeping of wives and daughters,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the clouds fly over the Southern Cross.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, then in the hour of his heart’s despairing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When sheets are rending and cables strain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">How sweet to his ear come the words of cheer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the sound of the watcher’s old refrain,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The midnight shadows fly.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">The Cross is bending, the night is ending,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The day is drawing nigh.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="idtts">. . . . . .<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Far out, far out on Life’s wild waters,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where storms are howling, where breakers toss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How many of earth’s fair sons and daughters<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are drifting and dragging to gain or loss!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But ever the Stars of Hope are shining,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Through calm and tempest, through wind and rain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And soft through the night, be it dark or bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The heart still echoes the old refrain,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“The skies are clearing, the dawn is nearing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The midnight shadows fly.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">The Cross is bending, the night is ending.<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">The day is drawing nigh.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="on_the_death_of_william_morris" id="on_the_death_of_william_morris"></a>
-<img src="images/morris.png"
-
-alt="On the Death of William Morris."
-/></h2>
-
-<h3>I.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Mine eyes beheld thee&mdash;but not nigh: mine ear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Close to thy page, could feel the beat, beat, beat,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That told thy great, good heart: now strangers’ feet<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Have borne thee out. Thee? Nay, I have thee here<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Forever young; nor less that eye, so clear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beams brotherhood, nor can the years that fleet<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Leave me more lonely. No hot tear&mdash;full meet<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From widowed Friendship&mdash;drop I on thy bier.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Some earth-stained page mars oft fair Friendships’s book;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And happier I, who saw thro’ Fancy’s light<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Kin only of the sacred singing race,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Blameless of all that mars familiar sight!&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then wherefore should I weep, who skyward look,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And mark a god move Godward to his place?<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>II.</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Perfume of eld, more sweet than all the scent<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of late-blown roses squandered on the air,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sweetens the tawny forest of thy hair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And there shall dwell till all the years be spent.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To thee war’s call with hint of song is blent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And time sits easy on the brows of care;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Love lifts a white affirming hand to swear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thee hero of thy heroes,&mdash;thou, who went<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">To the frore Past. Lo! in its eyes did dance<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Reflection of a day within the wake<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of some unrisen, kindlier star; and thou<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Didst cry: “Behold, with goodlier days the Now<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is great, as forests wave in seeds to break,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And countless thousands pulse in Love’s first glance!”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_084.png" width="50" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="copernicus" id="copernicus"></a>
-<img src="images/copernicus.png"
-
-alt="Copernicus."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They deemed, self-centred souls! that those great eyes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Which star the night, in amorous orbit turned<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And, ever boldly bashful, sighed and burned<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For one earth kiss, and stood within the skies<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Eternally expectant. O most wise<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In your great selves! that rude iconoclast<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His stones of Truth among your dreamings cast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And robbed your wisdom of its dear disguise.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He stood, a Sampson of Titanic force,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">’Twixt men and God, and swiftly grasped and hurled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His bolts at callow thoughts of centuries,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And pivoted th’ unreckoned universe,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And marked the rhythmic orbit of a world,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And changed chaotic chords to harmonies!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="to_algernon_charles_swinburne" id="to_algernon_charles_swinburne"></a>
-<img src="images/algernon.png"
-
-alt="To Algernon Charles Swinburne."
-/></h2>
-
-<p class="hang">(To remind him that the Genius of Ireland, nigh twenty centuries
-ago, taught the dull ears of the world the subtleties and charms of
-the rhyme of which he is now acknowledged master.)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Moulder of mighty measures and sublime;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose flower of song&mdash;how dead soe’er the ground&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Blossoms: whose feet, from no great depth profound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By cloudy slopes to cloudier summits climb!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What though thou art, in this thy world-broad prime,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Great King of Song, sceptred and robed and crowned;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Be it not thine to scorn the narrow round<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whence broadened out the bounds of later time.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Not all the message of that far-off chime<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The strident strains of this our day have drowned:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Forget not, Singer, whence hath sprung thy rhyme,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or whence thy tongue its lofty power hath found;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor squander all thy store in mocking mime,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Niggard of sense and prodigal of sound.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="heaven_and_earth" id="heaven_and_earth"></a>
-<img src="images/heaven.png"
-
-alt="Heaven and Earth."
-/></h2>
-
-<p><i>In the beginning the Heaven and the Earth were wedded together, and
-then was the golden age of joy and beauty. But something occurred which
-destroyed the union, and the Heaven and the Earth were parted amid the
-tears of Nature, which men call the dew.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Legend Of South Sea Islands.</span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Truth in untruth; wisdom on Folly’s tongue,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And substance in a shadow!&mdash;Hear ye this:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Erewhile, ’mid transports of primeval bliss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In starry ears a bridal song was sung,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Heav’n and Earth, in mutual rapture, strung<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ethereal harps, and took one reeling kiss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Till, seated with much joy, Earth grew remiss:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But, love was rife, and, ah! the Earth was young.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">O trembling tears of dawn in Nature’s eyes!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Forget your sadness. Lo! methinks the hour<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">When recreant Love turns loveward, thrills the dome;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Earth lifts mute praying hands in tree and flower,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Heav’n, in all the windows of the skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Hangs nightly lamps to light the wand’rer home!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="on_some_twentieth_century_forecasts" id="on_some_twentieth_century_forecasts"></a>
-<img src="images/forecasts.png"
-
-alt="On Some Twentieth Century forecasts."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">O imperturable and silent years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That reck not all the riot of our time<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose fevered feet, with inharmonious rhyme,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Royster around thy high phantasmal tiers!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How mean our mockings of the silent seers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To read the riddle of th’ Eternal Soul!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We list’ the thundering life within thy bole,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And count the hidden harvest that anears,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And dream our dreams, and smile to see them wrecked!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, vain insurgence on the unrevealed:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Enough to map the paths our fathers tracked<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Not, mother-like, kiss yet the face concealed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Age ages not the elemental law,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And we are thou in hope, thou we anew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still beneath are depths whence Shakspere drew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And still above are stars that Milton saw!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="ireland" id="ireland"></a>
-<img src="images/ireland.png"
-
-alt="Ireland."
-/></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Somewhat of Autumn’s splendour round her lies;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet deem not thou ’tis preface of her death,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For there is that within her heart which saith<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This word that buds and blossoms in her eyes:&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Reck not the portent of the season’s skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor deem yon darkling clouds aught but a breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sundrawn from half a world that offereth<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its votive incense to the year that flies.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The hand that bevels down the shortening day<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is one with that which quickens leaf and wing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So prophecy of pregnance in decay<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou hast, and in thine Autumn germs of Spring;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To vindicate these lips, that late have said:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“They dreamed a lie who deemed thee wholly dead!”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/i_090.png" width="500" alt="
-
-THE LITTLE LIBRARY.
-
-THE FOLLOWING VOLUMES WILL APPEAR IN DUE COURSE:&mdash;
-
-1.
-
-The King’s Oak and Other Stories,
-
-By ROBERT CROMIE,
-
-Author of “The Crack of Doom,” “A Plunge into Space,” &amp;c.
-
-These Stories are amongst the best things from the pen of this brilliant
-and popular Irish Author.
-
-2.
-
-[Immediately.
-
-SOCIALISM: ITS STRUCTURAL STUPIDITIES,
-
-By IGNOTUS.
-
-A pungent criticism and confutation of Fabian fallacies.
-
-3.
-
-The Eve of the World’s Tragedy;
-
-Or, The Thoughts of a Worm,
-
-By LOUIS H. VICTORY,
-
-Author of “Lady Rosalind,” “Collected Verses,” “Poems,” “The Higher
-Teaching of Shakespeare,” &amp;c., &amp;c.
-
-4.
-
-A VOLUME OF POEMS
-
-By the world-renowned
-
-SAMUEL K. COWAN, M.A., T.C.D.,
-
-Author of “Poems,” “Roses and Rue,” “Idylls of Ireland,” “Play,” “Laurel
-Leaves,” &amp;c., &amp;c.
-
-5.
-
-A BOOK OF PROSE
-
-By one of the greatest Irish Writers of his time,
-
-W. B. YEATS,
-
-Author of “The Countess Kathleen,” “Celtic Twilight,” “The Secret Rose,”
-&amp;c., &amp;c.
-
-OTHERS TO FOLLOW."
-/>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTE:</p>
-
-<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a>
-</p>
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">...Put a Girdle round the earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In forty minutes.<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Legend of the blemished king and other
-poems, by James H. Cousins
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGEND OF THE BLEMISHED KING ***
-
-***** This file should be named 60108-h.htm or 60108-h.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
- http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/0/60108/
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS, Bryan Ness and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
-will be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
-one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
-(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
-permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
-set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
-copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
-protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
-Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
-charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
-do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
-rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
-such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
-research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
-practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
-subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
-redistribution.
-
-
-
-*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
-Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
-http://gutenberg.org/license).
-
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
-all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
-If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
-terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
-entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
-and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
-or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
-collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
-individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
-located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
-copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
-works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
-are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
-Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
-freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
-this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
-the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
-keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
-Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
-a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
-the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
-before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
-creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
-Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
-the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
-States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
-access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
-whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
-copied or distributed:
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
-from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
-posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
-and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
-or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
-with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
-work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
-through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
-Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
-1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
-terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
-to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
-permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
-word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
-distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
-"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
-posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
-you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
-copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
-request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
-form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
-that
-
-- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
- owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
- has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
- Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
- must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
- prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
- returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
- sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
- address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
- the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or
- destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
- and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
- Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
- money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
- of receipt of the work.
-
-- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
-forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
-both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
-Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
-Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
-collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
-"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
-corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
-property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
-computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
-your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
-your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
-the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
-refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
-providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
-receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
-is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
-opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
-WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
-WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
-If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
-law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
-interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
-the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
-provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
-with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
-promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
-harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
-that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
-or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
-work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
-Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
-
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
-including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
-because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
-people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
-To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
-and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
-
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
-Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
-http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
-permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
-Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
-throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
-809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
-business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact
-information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
-page at http://pglaf.org
-
-For additional contact information:
- Dr. Gregory B. Newby
- Chief Executive and Director
- gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
-spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
-SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
-particular state visit http://pglaf.org
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
-To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
-
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
-works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
-with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
-Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
-
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
-unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
-keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
-
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
-
- http://www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-
-
-</pre>
-
-</body>
-</html>
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/algernon.png b/old/60108-h/images/algernon.png
deleted file mode 100644
index d2cbda2..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/algernon.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/blind.png b/old/60108-h/images/blind.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 8976ed1..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/blind.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/copernicus.png b/old/60108-h/images/copernicus.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 1ba8509..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/copernicus.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/60108-h/images/cover.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 98164a9..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/cover.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/forecasts.png b/old/60108-h/images/forecasts.png
deleted file mode 100644
index bc33d73..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/forecasts.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic22.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic22.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 27de388..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic22.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51a.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51a.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 575a6c0..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51a.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51b.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51b.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 0f56552..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51b.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51c.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51c.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 04313af..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic51c.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52a.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52a.png
deleted file mode 100644
index c468d9c..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52a.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52b.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52b.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 71732de..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52b.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52c.png b/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52c.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 7451a9e..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/gaelic52c.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/giant.png b/old/60108-h/images/giant.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 50f1f88..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/giant.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/heaven.png b/old/60108-h/images/heaven.png
deleted file mode 100644
index ff79c5f..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/heaven.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_005.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_005.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 8d360c9..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_005.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_007.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_007.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 65e64c8..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_007.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_009.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_009.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 9a9d4ea..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_009.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_057.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_057.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 6697b36..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_057.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_058.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_058.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 032da8b..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_058.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_073.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_073.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 44b37f4..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_073.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_078.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_078.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 196792b..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_078.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_084.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_084.png
deleted file mode 100644
index f03b640..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_084.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/i_090.png b/old/60108-h/images/i_090.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 879ebf5..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/i_090.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/ireland.png b/old/60108-h/images/ireland.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 0c8a356..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/ireland.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/leaf.png b/old/60108-h/images/leaf.png
deleted file mode 100644
index e85146e..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/leaf.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/legend.png b/old/60108-h/images/legend.png
deleted file mode 100644
index a2a797e..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/legend.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/legend2.png b/old/60108-h/images/legend2.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 3013920..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/legend2.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/mahee.png b/old/60108-h/images/mahee.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 46ef3e4..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/mahee.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/mahee2.png b/old/60108-h/images/mahee2.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 9724144..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/mahee2.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/miscellaneous.png b/old/60108-h/images/miscellaneous.png
deleted file mode 100644
index f9cc9d2..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/miscellaneous.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/morris.png b/old/60108-h/images/morris.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 5c55131..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/morris.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/prologue.png b/old/60108-h/images/prologue.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 5559ab7..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/prologue.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/railway.png b/old/60108-h/images/railway.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 6ea2102..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/railway.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/schakhe.png b/old/60108-h/images/schakhe.png
deleted file mode 100644
index e52d45b..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/schakhe.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/song.png b/old/60108-h/images/song.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 5b138c8..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/song.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/southern.png b/old/60108-h/images/southern.png
deleted file mode 100644
index f37da50..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/southern.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/sundry.png b/old/60108-h/images/sundry.png
deleted file mode 100644
index a1e5f27..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/sundry.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/60108-h/images/title.png b/old/60108-h/images/title.png
deleted file mode 100644
index 6466a34..0000000
--- a/old/60108-h/images/title.png
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ