So taught their creed ;—nor failed the eastern sky, 'Mid these more awful feelings, to infuse The sweet and natural hopes that shall not die, For us hath such prelusive vigil ceased; That obvious emblem giving to the eye 1823. XIV. THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE. [A TRADITION transferred from the ancient mansion of Hutton John, the seat of the Hudlestons, to Egremont Castle.] ERE the Brothers through the gateway Save He who came as rightful Heir To Egremont's Domains and Castle fair. Heirs from times of earliest record Tried the Horn,-it owned his power; He was acknowledged: and the blast, Which good Sir Eustace sounded, was the last. With his lance Sir Eustace pointed, And to Hubert thus said he, "What I speak this Horn shall witness Hear, then, and neglect me not! The words are uttered from my heart, As my On good service we are going In which course if Christ our Saviour Do my sinful soul demand, Hither come thou back straightway, Hubert, if alive that day; Return, and sound the Horn, that we May have a living House still left in thee!" "Fear not," quickly answered Hubert; "As I am thy Father's son, What thou askest, noble Brother, With God's favour shall be done." So were both right well content: To Palestine the Brothers took their way. Side by side they fought (the Lucies And where'er their strokes alighted, There the Saracens were tamed. Whence, then, could it come-the thought By what evil spirit brought? Oh! can a brave Man wish to take His Brother's life, for Lands' and Castle's sake? "Sir!" the Ruffians said to Hubert, 'Deep he lies in Jordan flood." Stricken by this ill assurance, Pale and trembling Hubert stood. "Take your earnings."-Oh! that I Could have seen my Brother die! It was a pang that vexed him then; And oft returned, again, and yet again. Months passed on, and no Sir Eustace! But silent and by stealth he came, And at an hour which nobody could name. None could tell if it were night-time, And bright the Lady is who shares his bed. Likewise he had sons and daughters; And, as good men do, he sate At his board by these surrounded, Once he sate, as old books say, A blast was uttered from the Horn, 'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace! He is helpless and alone: Thou hast a dungeon, speak the word! And there he may be lodged, and thou be Lord. Speak!-astounded Hubert cannot ; And, if power to speak he had, All are daunted, all the household Smitten to the heart, and sad. 'Tis Sir Eustace; if it be Living man, it must be he! Thus Hubert thought in his dismay, Long, and long was he unheard of: But Sir Eustace, whom good angels A long posterity renowned, Sounded the Horn which they alone could sound. 1806. |