And yet all vainly as it seemed; For on each side, beyond its shade, The sweet, triumphant sunbeams gleamed, Rejoicing in the light they made.
On all they shone except that dell,
On which the shadow darkly fell.
'A little marsh, whence, low and harsh, A strange sound comes to me; I marvel what that sound may be, For strange it lights upon mine ear; My heart it fills with more than fear, With something of despair. This well I know, 'tis not the sound Of any beast that walks the ground, Of any bird that skims the air.' Right well you guess, for 'tis the wail Of a lost soul in endless bale,— The reward of mortal sinning,— Endless bale, but now beginning; Nay, do not turn away your eyes,
For long before the sun now shining Shall be towards yonder world declining, In that low dell the LORD'S BETRAYER dies.
With fearful horror and surprise, On that low dell I fixed mine eyes.
The hills came down on every side,
Leaving a little space between,
The ground of which, scarce five roods wide, Was of a cold rank green.
And where it sloped down to the fen,
Built part of reeds and part of wood, A low half-ruined hut there stood,— For man no home, for beast no den,Yet through the openings might be seen The moving of a form within.
By this the sound had passed away, And silence like a garment lay
A moment on the little lake,
If such it were, whose surface spake No tale of wakening breeze or sun, But choked with reeds all rank and dun; Which seemed to me as if they stirred And shivered, though no wind was heard.
They gave a shrill and mournful sound,- 'Twas like, and yet unlike, the sighing You hear in woods when the year is dying, And leaves lie thickly on the ground. As creepingly my ear it sought, It might be fancy, yet methought That, of all sounds that live in air, This sounded likest to despair.
(To each man by pitying Heaven One of these at birth is given;
And such their love and constancy,
That through all depths of sin and sadness, Tempting hope and baffling madness, They ever, ever with us be.
Nor, till proud despair we cherish, Will they leave our souls to perish.)
What doth the lonely creature there? 'Yon spirit quitteth not his side
To whom he hath been given, Whilst yet his heart has not defied The wrath and grace of Heaven, Nor can his guardian watch be broken Till this defiance shall be spoken By Judas the Betrayer.'
Hold on thy watch, thou blessed Bird! One moment leave it not :
A heart of faith even might be stirred To doubt in such a spot.
Of him-the wretched traitor-friend, Thou long-forbearing dove!
Let no despairing words offend Thy faithfulness and love; For in the dark extremes of ill The tongue will disobey the will, And words of sin the lips will part, Whilst holy feelings fill the heart!
It is another bird,—and lo! Rounding the corner of the hut,
It cometh silently and slow
With outstretched head and eyes half shut;
The feathers do not hide its skin; Long is its neck, its legs are thin,— 'Tis plain there is no health within.
It is the bird whose song so harsh, But lately sore dismayed me : Upward it walketh from the marsh, It treadeth cunningly. Too foul it is and melancholy To live on the upper ground; And I know it for a thing unholy, On some bad errand bound.
It rounds the corner of the hut,
It stops and peers upon the dove: The unconscious creature sees it not, So full are its two eyes with love. On the dove it peers, and its head the while It pusheth out and it draweth in ; And it smileth, if that a bird may smile,
At the thought and hope of a joyous sin. In a moment it thrusts its grisly neck
With a silent jerk into the lake; In a moment it lifteth itself erect,
And, in its bill, a snake.
The snake is round, and small, and cold, And as full of venom as it can hold.
With three long steps, all without noise, Close to the dove it cometh :
That dreams no ill, for the while its voice A sweet low music hummeth.
To the dove's fair neck with a gentle peck
His long bill he applies:
At the touch and the sound the dove turns round
With a look of meek surprise,
'Tis but one look, for swift as thought
That snaky neck is round its throat.
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