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Ranolf and Amohia

VII

VII.

These moving moveless Mountains and still Main,
Had nearly in their unfelt flight again
Slipped from beneath the funnel of deep shade,
For ever shot from our Sun-circling ball,
page 473 Through which we peer into Infinity;—
Those four grand worlds tremendous which we call
A Cross—and their immensity invade
With faiths and fancies of our tiny Star,
Seemed to have turned them in their watch on high,
And changed the side from which to gaze afar
On the dark Pole—the seeming vacant Throne
Of One that Warder bright adored alone!
As in blue Syrian midnights long bygone,
Some jewel-armoured Satrap Damascene,
More from the fevered restlessness inspired
By Love, than with his tedious vigil tired,
Might oft have changed the spot where he would lean
Ami keep his fierce enamoured glances, keen
And glittering as his falchion, rapt and fast
Upon the lattice-screen, whereat at last
His maddening matchless quests—sonic miracle-Queen,
In loveliness and learnedness and loftiness
Of spirit, perfect as that Palmyrene—
But one ecstatic moment might appear,
Zenobia-like—too dazzlingly severe—
And frown a sunrise on the love's excess
Its glory could reward but not repress!—
Beneath the myriad eyes of that still Sky
Cowering, the conscious Ocean seemed to lie,
With faint soft murmuring, finely-wrinkled swell;
As if it scarcely dared to heave or sigh
Beneath the fascination of their spell;—
In brief, dear tortured Reader—it was near
The dawn; and Sea and Sky were calm and clear.

Not far below the Port the Ship had left,
The hills into a little cove were cleft;
page 474 The stony faces of the cliffs thus rent
Showed twisted strata, strangely earthquake-bent,
Running on each side circularly up—
A great grey hollow like a broken cup!
From crest and crevice, tortuously flung
Those monstrous iron-hearted myrtles hung—
Stiff snaky writhing trunks, and roots that clave
And crawled to any hold the ramparts gave.
Below, the level floor of sea-smoothed stone
Was all scooped out and scored by wear and tear
Of tides into round baths, and channels—bare
Or with sea-windflowers, scarlet-ringed, o'ergrown:
And big clay-coloured rocks and boulders,
dropt From mould like hollows in the cliffs above,
Where others like them sticking still, outcropped,
Lay scattered round the margin of the cove.

Look! in the starlit stillness, there and then,
A boat emerging from the gloom appears;
Rowed by four stalwart, darkling, silent, men,
With muffled oars and faintest plash scarce heard;
No sound beside, but the rare muttered word
Of brief command from him who mutelv steers
And keenly round him through the darkness peers.
How cautiously her channelled way she feels,
And towards the rocks above the tide line steals!
There with suspended oars the boatmen wait,
Careful lest even their drip be heard; the Chief
Steps out and listens on the lonely reef;
No sight—no sound of anything that lives—
A 'cooey!' low and cautious, then he gives
See! one of those clay-coloured rocks, descried
Dimly from where, with boathook held, the skiff,
page 475 Lies gently tilting with the lapping tide,
Seems, 'mid its dumb companions 'neath the cliff
With life and motion suddenly endowed!
It rises—swiftly running—leaping o'er
The stony-ribbed and channel-furrowed floor;
See! 'tis a female form—a graceful shape
Not even the clay-hued mats that thickly drape
The head and shoulders, all the figure shroud—
Can wholly hide; and see! as it draws near
And Ranolf ('twas none other) runs to meet
And with glad gesture greet the vision dear,
Beneath the hood—this time no doubtful dream—
Two great delighted sparkling eyes appear—
A wan glad face appears, so wan and sweet,
And kindling with triumphant love supreme!

An ardent pressure of the hand (before
That crew) a whisper of fond cheer—no more;
And in the boat he makes her take her seat;—
"Push off, my lads—look sharp!"—and from the shore
They steal; while she, her trustful heart at last
At peace, albeit from apprehension past
Still fluttering with a somewhat quicker beat,
Crouches by that loved form; and by degrees
With his rude comrades learns to feel at ease,
Confiding in the rough respect she sees
They pay to his sea-knowledge—ready hand—
Firm lip—and eye accustomed to command.
The men 'give way' with vigorous strokes, nor fear
Nor care, who now may see the boat or hear;
With hoisted sail to catch what airs there be,
She soon is gently trampling through the sea.
page 476 The Ship that in the offing, out of sight
Had with scarce flapping canvas hung all night
Becalmed, now as the breeze begins to rise
With topsails backed and filled alternate, lies
About one spot, till o'er the clearing main
The boat returning is descried again;
Then, with her yards braced round, and fair inclined,
She lets them curve out boldly to the wind,
Tacks towards the boat, and soon receives on board
The wondering Maid, to life and love restored!

How all this had been planned need we describe?
That night when Ranolf found the drowned alive;
How he had won, and hardly had to bribe
The bluff Ship-Master's soon-accorded aid;
How unobserved, while for the Ship he stayed,
The neighbouring coast he carefully surveyed
And found a cove whence they could well embark;
How 'twas agreed that Amo should contrive
After the Ship's departure, in the dark,
When towards the morning all were sunk in sleep,
Out of the village secretly to creep,
And to the spot he pointed out repair;
There wait until she saw his boat arrive;
And do the same, as he would—'twas agreed-
If obstacles were met with, and need were-
Night after night, until they should succeed.