COLHORN.

Lo, a castle, tall, lake-mirrored,

Ringed around by mountain forms,

Roofless, ruined, still defying

Summer's rains and winter's storms.

Every shattered lifeless window,

Every stone in every wall,

Keep and gable, broken stairway,

Woman's faithful love recall.

Colin, called “the Swarthy,” famous

In the annals of Lochow,

When a child, was gently fostered

Near where Orchy's waters flow.

The Black Knight, his sire, could value

Vassal's love and hardy fare;

To a gudewife gave him, saying,

“Train him with the sons you bear.”

Strong he grew, and brave, till armies

Praised in him a man of men.

Came a peace — then love;— a lady

Ruled with him the Orchy's glen.

But afar from over Ocean

Rose a cry for Christian aid:

Blessed of Pope,‘ neath holy banners

Sailed he for the great crusade.

Leaving with his weeping lady

Half their marriage ring, whereon

Written stood his name, and taking

Half where hers, engraven, shone.

“If no tidings reach thee, darling,

Blame my death.” But she through tears

Answered: “I'll believe thee living

Though I hear not seven years.”

Lonely lived the lady, lonely:

Riches grew, and brought her all

Save the loving words whose echo

Seemed to linger in his hall.

Voiceless passed the years; and Rumour

Falsely slew him, whose steel mail

Flashed o'er white walls, azure sea girt,

Watched, and feared by Moslem sail.

Rhodes’ fair island saw his valour;

‘ Mid her gardens he had bled;

Glowing as her sun, his love-words

Homeward to his lady sped.

Ah, they reached her not, to banish

Days of care, and nights of woe;

Their warm sunshine never parted

Clouds that darkened o'er Lochow,

Weary is her lot whose favour

For her wealth is held a prize;

Oft she finds no truthful homage,

Sees no love in pleading eyes.

Man gains strength from gold, but woman

Worse than dross her wealth may call;

Avarice is her haunting suitor,

Giving naught and seeking all.

Messages from the Crusader

Fell into a Baron's hands;

Who, with subtle treason working,

Coveted dark Colin's lands:

Spread the base and cruel rumours,

Preyed upon the aching heart,

Asked her year by year in marriage,

Falsely played the lover's part.

And the heartless seasons vanished,

Other twain were nearly sped;

Then at last his suit seemed answered,

Silently she bent her head.

Gaily, loudly, laughing o'er her,

Named the Baron hour and day.

But she said: “No, for this wedding

First I'll build a castle gay.

“When its halls are built, we'll tarry

Where our guests can praise our cheer;

When the feast-smoke from its chimneys

Rises, then the day is near.”

So the building rose, and slowly

Walls and stairway, keep and tower

Stone by stone completed, sadly

Heralded the wedding hour.

Shall it come, and never mercy

Shown of God avert the doom?

Shall the longing for the absent

Turn to feasting o'er his tomb?

Yes. The Castle's new possessor

Soon shall follow thronging guests:

As the Lake reflects the turrets

Men shall second his behests.

Mournful, where they laughed so gladly,

A poor beggar, haggard, grey,

Trod with pain the stony roadside,

Often halting by the way.

He too reached the Castle's portal,

Stood within its archway grim,

Loitering in the path of others;

Who would step aside for him?

Pushed a henchman rudely, saying,

“Get you hence,” but still he stood:

Then they gave him bread and water,

“Loiter not, you have your food.”

Twice came others, in his wallet

Thrusting bread and meat, and said:

“Now away, why stand you troubling,

Here you cannot make your bed.”

“Drink from her own hands imploring,

Tell your Lady here I wait!”

Wondering went she where the beggar

Shadowed stood within the gate.

Now she pours the crystal water,

Quickly he the cup returns;

Oh! what golden circlet broken

Sees she there that gleams and burns?

Eagerly she grasped the token,

Turning to the light away;

Came again, and crying “Colin!”

On the beggar's breast she lay.

Spoke he sadly: “Hast thou truly

Still the heart I loved? I know —

They have told me — that thou takest

To thy love my deadly foe.

“The gudewife, my foster mother,

Unto whom I made me known

When I reached the Orchy, told me

How the rumour base had grown:

“I was dead, or cared not for thee

Who received no word of mine;

‘ Twas thy lover's doing, woman,

Hungering for my wealth and thine!

“‘ Take,’ the gudewife said,‘ a beggar's

Old attire; and see the mist

Where the wedding smoke is ordered

By the lips which thou hast kissed.’

“Thou hast put our ring together

Can it be as one again?”

Then she raised her face, and proudly

Spoke unto her serving-men:

“See you where the Baron's people

Come with him along the road?

Go and tell them quickly,‘ Colin

Rules again his own abode.’”

Fled the traitor, pulses beating,

Not with love, but craven fear;

And the beggar found the treasure

That to noble hearts is dear.

Found the love no time had altered,

Honoured lived, and honoured died;

And in Rhodes and in Glenorchy

Honoured shall his name abide.