Through a long range of spacious gilded rooms On the rich woven labours of the looms, My guide, at length, withdrew; wrapp'd in suspense His form commanded, and his visage aw'd, The dancing plumage o’er his front wav'd high, I sought to bend me, but my limbs refus'd A dubious joy did in my mind instil. While thus I cower'd beneath his piercing eye, He saw and strove to mitigate my fear, Soft'ning the frown of harsh austerity In his bold brow, which nature grafted there. With speeches kind he cheer'd my sinking heart, Question'd me much, and strok'd my drooping Yet his whole mind he seem'd not to impart, [head; His looks implied more than his speeches said. A 'broider'd purse, which weighty seem'd with gold, He gave me then, and kindly press'd my hand; And thus awhile did stay me in his hold, And on my face did meditating stand. His soul work'd hugely, and his bosom swell'd, As though some mighty thing he yearn'd to say; But (with indignant pride the thought repell'd) He started, frown'd, and snatch'd himself away. My guide return'd, and reconducted me Tow'rd the abode of my preceptor kind; Without reserve I told him all that pass'd, I ask'd what wondrous cause, yet undescried, Confus'd, yet undispleas'd my guide appear'd, Nought he divulg'd (though much he seem'd to know) Save this, which he with earnest look averr'd, 'No obligation, youth, to me you owe; 'I do but what my place and duty bid, With me no kindred drops of blood you share, Yet (hard to tell!) your birth must still be hid; Inquire no further-Honour bids, forbear.'. Thus he reprov'd, yet did it with a look, He left me at my tutor's soft abode, And parting bless'd me by the holy cross ; My heart wax'd sad, as he retrac'd the road, And seem'd to have sustain'd some mighty loss. But soon tumultuous thoughts began give way, Lull'd by the voice of my preceptor sage; Unquiet bosoms he could well allay, His looks could soften, and his words assuage. Unruly care from him was far remov❜d, Grief's wildest murmurs at his breath would cease; O! in his blameless life how well he prov'd The house of goodness is the house of peace! Here I again enjoyed my sweet repose, And taught my heart, with pious wisdom fill'd, No more with anxious throb to seek disclose What stubborn fate had doom'd to lie conceal'd. But long these fond delusions did not last, Some sterner pow'r my rising life controll❜d, My visionary hopes too swiftly pass'd, And left my prospects dreary, dark, and cold. When rugged March o'er-rules the growing year, Have we not seen the morn with treacherous ray Shine out awhile, then instant disappear, And leave to damp and gloom the future day? So dawn'd my fate, and so deceiv'd my heart, Nor wean'd me from my hopes, but cruel tore; In one unlook'd-for moment, bade me part From all my comforts, to return no more. My guide once more arriv'd, though, as of late, 'Rise, youth,' he said,' and mount this rapid steed'--I argued not; his bidding straight was done; Proud-crested was the beast, of warlike breed, Arm'd, at all points, with rich caparison. We commun'd not-such heat was in our speed, Scantly would it allow me pow'r of thought, Till eve, deep-painted with a burning red, To Bosworth Field our panting coursers brought. Who hath not heard of Bosworth's fatal plain, Where base adventurers did in compact join 'Gainst chiefs of prowess high, and noble strain, And lower'd the crest of York's imperial line? Now verging on that memorable ground, Our course we stay’d-yet we alighted not; Fill'd with astonishment I'gaz'd around, While in my glowing breast my heart grew hot. Thick-station'd tents, extended wide and far, To th' utmost stretch of sight could I behold, And banners fluttering in the whistling air, And archers trimly dight, and prancers bold. The sinking sun with richly-burnish'd glow, Now to his western chamber made retire, While pointed spears, quick-shifting to and fro, Seem'd all as spiral flames of hottest fire. Promiscuous voices fill'd the floating gale, The welkin echoed with the steed's proud neigh: The bands oft turn'd and eyed the western vale, Watching the closure of departing day. Light vanish'd now apace, and twilight grey With speed unusual mantled all the ground, The chieftains to their tents had ta'en their way, And sentinels thick-posted watch'd around. As sable night advanced more and more, Now tow'rd the tents awhile we journey'd on With hasty foot we press'd the dewy sod, Fit answer making to each station'd guard; When full before us, as we onward trod, A martial form our further progress barr'd. He seem'd as though he there did list'ning stand, His face deep-muffled in his folded cloak; Now threw it wide,snatch'd quick my dubious hand, And to a neighbouring tent his speed betook. |