The clattering hoofs of a steed of war. She sprang to her feet; she clomb the Scar; And watch'd for the galloping steed of war, As the sound came near both loud and clear From the wood lying under the evening star. Lo, to the tarn a horseman sped; Pale was his face and his eyes were dead; He lifted his spear as he gallop'd anear, And on and on the phantom fled! O wildly cried the lorn ladye, And tore her tresses that floated free, Then madly leapt to the tarn that slept Under the cliff by the winding lea. And oft when the sad pale evening star Touches the tip of the rifted Scar, A maiden's cry comes shuddering by, And wakes the echoings near and far. ---E. J. Armstrong. THE WRECK OFF MIZEN-HEAD I. |O, who could lie a-snoring Or who carousing be While such a storm is roaring And raving o'er the sea?... A Ship to death is drifting. Faint hands in prayer uplifting, With hearts in anguish failing, The wives and mothers, wailing, Look out from cliff and lea; And beacon-fires are glowing, And, fierce and fiercer growing, The sleety blasts are blowing O'er rock and roof and tree. Come out from giddy dances And songs and vain romances And idle dreams and trances, And man the boat with me. II. "Come down while thunders deaden The minute-guns afar, And the lightnings as they redden Make pale the signal's star; Come down where waves are leaping And the stricken folk stand weeping, Our gallant boat uncover, And through the wet sand shove her, And speed her o'er the bar; For though she's but a light one, For such a sea a slight one, She's a trim one and a tight one, And where to-night is he Whose yearning would not waken To help the lives forsaken? Come down with hearts unshaken, And brave the deep with me!" III. So Guy the ever-daring One fierce September night, While beacon-fires were flaring Along the Mizen's height-- As I, from pastimes shrinking, Of Rose's scorn was thinking-- Cried, all at once upspringing 'Mid dance and mirth and singing And games and laughters light; And Hugh the eager-hearted Out to the portal darted, And Wolfe and Wilfred started And Donald, Ralph, and I; And, prayers and sweet imploring From maiden lips ignoring, With spirits wildly soaring We faced the seas and sky. IV. As down the beach descending We drave the quivering boat, A gleam of moonlight, rending The darkness, showed afloat The labouring Vessel, shattered, With tackle rent and tattered, Amid the tempest heaving, Her course to ruin cleaving; Then fast the surf we smote, And, boldly toward her steering, Still Guy our courage cheering, The deadly breakers clearing, We strained across the tide; And on,'mid lightnings gleaming,-- The winds about us screaming, The rain in rivers streaming,-- We struggled to her side. V.