Ballads, Founded on Anecdotes Relating to Animals Part 8

Into the boat behold him bound, He lifts his lifeless wife upright: She wakens to the thunder's sound; Her opening eyes regain the light.

"Where is my child?" she faintly cries; "Where is the child?" her lord rejoin'd: Poor heart-struck Susan nought replies, The child had vanished from her mind.

"My child! my child!" with terror's start She shrieks, in accents wild and shrill; And at her agony of heart, The very tempest's self grew still!

"Say if you saw him sink!" she cried, Wildly to Susan pale and wan: When quick her roving eye descried, The tall neck of her favourite Swan.

"My G.o.d! my G.o.d! 'tis thee I thank!"

Exclaim'd the now exulting fair; "I see him wafted to the bank, His cradle form'd by heavenly care!"

She spoke, and all who heard her cry, Now saw the babe divinely nurst; The extatic sight from every eye, Made tears of grateful transport burst.

Between her silvery arching wings, The guardian bird had lodg'd the child; And forward as her broad foot springs, At every stroke the infant smil'd.

And with a heaven-implanted pride, Superbly rowing now to land; The brave bird has her charge denied To all, but to the mother's hand.

Cecilia feeling now no pains, Leans o'er the boat's advancing end; And aided by her lord reclaims, The present of her feather'd friend.

Now with delight the rescued boy, To her maternal bosom springs: The conscious Swan partakes their joy, And claps her proud triumphant wings.

Cecilia beads to weep and pray, She weeps with joy, no longer wan; And still on this returning day, Blesses the heaven-directed Swan!

THE HERMIT'S DOG.

BALLAD THE ELEVENTH.

Of dogs who sav'd a living friend, Most n.o.bly, ye have read: Now to a n.o.bler still attend, A guardian of the dead.

As o'er wild Alpine scenes I stray'd, Not far from that retreat, Where Bruno, with celestial aid, First plann'd his sacred seat.

An anchorite of n.o.ble mien, Attracted my regard; Majestic as that savage scene, Or as a Cambrian bard.

He to no silent dome belongs, The rock is his domain; It echoes to his nightly songs Devotion's lonely strain.

His mansion is a tranquil grot, Form'd in the living stone: My view of the sequester'd spot, I owe to chance alone.

For happening near his cell to rove, Enamour'd of the wild; I heard within a piny grove What seem'd a plaintive child.

The distant cry so struck my ear, I hasten'd to the ground, But saw surpris'd, as I drew near, The author of the sound.

No human form, yet one I thought, With human feelings fill'd, And from his tongue, by nature taught, Strange notes of sorrow thrill'd.

Unseen myself, I clearly saw A dog that couchant moan'd; He struck the hard earth with his paw, Then look'd at Heaven, and groan'd!

With silent caution I drew near, To mark this friend of man, Expressing grief in sobs so clear, It through my bosom ran!

The n.o.ble beast was black as jet, And as a lion large; He look'd as on a tombstone set, To hold the dead in charge.

Grand was his visage, round his neck Broad silver rings he wore; These rings, that his dark body deck, The cross of Malta bore.

I gaz'd, but soon my steps, tho' soft, Announced a stranger near; The brave beast bounded up aloft, Nor was I free from fear.

But soon his master's voice represt And call'd him to his side: And soon I was the hermit's guest, He was my guard and guide.

My own intrusion to excuse, The wond'rous dog I prais'd, Whose milder mien my eye reviews, Delighted and amaz'd!

"If I disturb thy calm retreat, Divinely calm indeed, The n.o.ble servant at thy feet, May for my pardon plead."

"That n.o.ble servant in my sight Whom strength and grace adorn, Announces, if I read aright, A master n.o.bly born."

The sire replied, with graceful bend, "No not my servant, he!

A n.o.ble independent friend, He deigns to live with me!"

"But, stranger, if you kindly rest, His story you shall hear, And all that makes my sable guest, Most singularly dear."

"Here it has been my chosen lot, Some awful years to spend!

Few months have pa.s.s'd, since near this spot I gain'd this signal friend."

"This friend, with whom to live and die, Is now my dearest aim; He likes the world no more than I, And Hero is his name."

"Some two miles off, as near a wood, Of deepest gloom I stray'd; Struck by strange sounds, I wond'ring stood, They echoed from the shade."

"First like a noise in troubled dreams, But soon distinct I heard, A dog's triumphant bark, and screams, That spoke a dying bird."

"A bird of loud portentous note, One of the vulture race, Which shepherds will to death devote, In sanguinary chace."

"I thought some shepherd's joy to share, And hurried to the sound: To what I had expected there Far different scene I found."

"A man, of blood-bespotted vest, I saw upon the earth; And Malta's cross upon his breast, Spoke him of n.o.ble birth."

"Misfortune long had press'd him sore; I know not how he died; He had been dead two days or more, When I his corse descried."

"Him, as their prey, two vultures seek, With ravenous rage abhorr'd; But Hero guarded from their beak, The visage of his lord!"

"When first my eyes on Hero glanc'd, One vulture he had slain: The second scar'd as I advanced, Flew off in fearful pain."

"Enchanted with a guard so brave, So faithful to the dead: The wounded dog to soothe and save, With beating heart I sped."

"He lick'd my hand, by me carest, But him with grief I saw Half famish'd, and his gallant breast Gor'd by the vulture's claw!"

"Tho' anxious o'er his wounds I bend; By kindness or by force, I could not tempt this generous friend.

To quit the pallid corse!"

"The body to my cell I bear; This mourner with it moved; Then he submitted to my care, And all my aid approv'd."