SUGGESTED BY THE RUINED CHURCH AT JAMESTOWN, VIRGINIA.
"The clocks were stopped at the banquet-hour."
An ivy spray in my hand I hold,
The kindly ivy that covers the mould
Of ruined halls; it was brought to me
From Kenilworth Castle, over the sea —
O, Ivy, Ivy, I think of that Queen,
Who once swept on' her way through the oak walls green,
To Kenilworth, far in the gathering glooms,
Her cavalcade white with silver plumes.
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
O, Ivy, Ivy — I see that hour.
The great bell strikes in the signal-tower,
The banners lift in the ghostly moon,
The bards Provencal their harps attune,
The fiery fountains play on the lawns,
The glare of the rocket startles the fawns,
The trumpets peal, and roll the drums,
And the Castle thunders, "She comes, she comes!"
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
But hark! the notes of the culverin!
To the Castle's portal, trooping in,
A thousand courtiers torches bear,
And the turrets flame in the dusty air.
The Castle is ringing, "All hail! all hail!"
Ride slowly, O Queen! 'mid the walls of mail,
And now let the courtliest knight of all
Lead thy jewelled feet to the banquet hall;
A thousand goblets await thee there,
And the great clocks lift their faces in air.
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
O, Ivy true; O, Ivy old,
The great clocks stare on the cups of gold
Like dreadful eyes, and their hands pass on
The festive minutes, one by one.
—"Dying — dying," they seem to say —
"This too — this too — shall pass away,"
And the knights look up, and the knights look down,
And their fair white brows on the great clocks frown.
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover- their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold !
On the dais the Queen now stands — and falls
A silence deep on the blazing halls;
She opes her lips — but, hark! now dare
The clocks to beat in the stillness there?
— " Dying — dying," they seem to say —
"This too — this too — shall pass away!"
And the Queen looks up, and with stony stare
The high clocks look on the proud Queen there.
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
Then the dark knights say, "What is wanting here?"
"That the hour should last" — so said a peer.
"The hour shall last ! "the proud earl calls;
"Ho! Stop the clocks in the banquet halls!"
And the clocks' slow pulses of death were stilled,
And the gay earl smiled, and the wine was spilled,
And the jewelled Queen at the dumb clocks laughed,
And the flashing goblet raised and quaffed.
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
But time went on, though the clocks were dead;
O'er the dewy oaks rose the morning red.
. . .
"Life! life!" she cries, "my all would I give
For a moment, one moment, O, Time, to live!"
They are gone, all gone, those knights of old,
With their red-cross banners and spurs of gold,
And thou dost cover their castle's mould,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold!
On her crownless brow fell white her hair
And she buried her face in her cushions there:
"One moment!" — it echoed through the hall,
But the clock stopped not on the arrased wall.
There is a palace whose dial towers
Uplift no record of vanishing hours,
Disease comes not to its doors, nor falls
Death's dusty steps in its golden halls.
And more than crowns, or castles old,
Or red-cross banners, or spurs of gold,
That palace key it is to hold,
O, Ivy, Ivy, dark and cold.
[Extracts]