Читать книгу The Song of Deirdra, King Byrge and his Brothers, and Other Ballads - Borrow George - Страница 2

“Where is the man who will dive for his King,

In the pool as it rushes with turbulent sweep?

A cup from this surf-beaten jetty I fling,

And he who will seek it below in the deep,

And will bring it again to the light of the day,

As the meed of his valour shall bear it away.

“Now courage, my knights, and my warriors bold,

For, one, two, and three, and away it shall go – ”

He toss’d, as he said it, the goblet of gold

Deep, deep in the howling abysses below. —

“Where is the hero who ventures to brave

The whirl of the pool, and the break of the wave?”

The steel-coated lancemen, and nobles around,

Spoke not, but they trembled in silent surprise,

And pale they all stood on the cliff’s giddy bound,

And no one would venture to dive for the prize.

“Three times have I spoke, but no hero will spring

And dive for the goblet, and dive for the King.”

But still they were silent and pale as before,

Till a brave son of Eirin, in venturous pride,

Dash’d forth from the lancemen’s trembling corps

And canted his helm, cast his mantle aside,

While spearman, and noble, and lady, and knight,

Gazed on the bold stripling in breathless affright.

Unmoved by the thoughts of his horrible doom,

He mounted the cliff – and he paus’d on his leap,

For the waves which the pool had imbibed in its womb

Were spouted in thunder again from the deep, —

Yes! as they return’d, their report was as loud

As the peal when it bursts from the storm-riven cloud.

It roared, and it drizzled, it hiss’d and it whirl’d,

And it bubbled like water when mingled with flame,

And columns of foam to the heaven were hurl’d,

And billow on billow tumultuously came;

It seem’d that the womb of the ocean would bear

Sea over sea to the uppermost air.

It thundered again as the wave gathered slow,

And black from the drizzling foam as it fell,

The mouth of the fathomless tunnel below

Was seen like the pass to the regions of hell;

The waters roll round it, and gather and boom,

And then all at once disappear in the gloom.

And now ere the waves had returned from the deep,

The youth wiped the sweat-drops which hung on his brows,

And he plunged – and the cataracts over him sweep,

And a shout from his terrified comrades arose;

And then there succeeded a horrible pause

For the whirlpool had clos’d its mysterious jaws.

And stiller it grew on the watery waste,

In the womb of the ocean it bellow’d alone,

The knights said their Aves in terrified haste,

And crowded each pinnacle, jetty, and stone:

“The high-hearted stripling is whelm’d in the tide,

Ah! wail him,” was echoed from every side.

“If the monarch had buried his crown in the pool

And said: ‘He shall wear it who brings it again,’

I would not have been so insensate a fool

As to dive when all hope of returning were vain;