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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456069" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part III</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>'A CURSE is on this work!' Columba cried;<br>And with their dark robes flapping in the gale,<br>The frightened monks came hurrying to his side,<br>And looked at one another turning pale;<br>For every night the work done in the day<br>Strewn on the ground in wild confusion lay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.<br>'A curse is on this work!' he cried again<br>As his keen glances swept each face in turn:<br>'Behold, God smites us in the hurricane,<br>And in the lightning doth His anger burn.<br>Brethren, some secret deadly sin there is<br>Known to the Lord for which we suffer this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III.<br>'Why is it that the elements combine<br>Against us, raging in relentless ire<br>Against our humble wave-encircled shrine?<br>That air, that water, that consuming fire<br>Inveterately war against this fane<br>Which we would build, but ever build in vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IV.<br>'Why is it that the billows of the deep<br>Rise in revolt against the rock-bound shore,<br>Lashing themselves to fury on each steep,<br>Till inland lakes, awakening at the roar,<br>Now roar in mad response, and swell amain,<br>Till broadening waters hide the drowning plain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>V.<br>'One night, ye know, from out the imminent gloom,<br>Shrouding the firmament as in a pall,<br>The levin, like a spirit from the tomb,<br>Leaped with a ghastly glare, and in its fall<br>Struck the new roof-tree with reverberate crash,<br>And left a little heap of shrivelled ash.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VI.<br>'Another night--why need I tell the tale?--<br>The winds in legions thundered through the air,<br>Battering the walls with sudden gusts of hail,<br>They rushed with piercing shrieks and strident blare<br>Athwart the cloisters and the roofless hall,<br>Till stone by stone fell from the rocking wall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VII.<br>'And then the very water turned our foe,<br>For in the dead of night it slowly crept,<br>Soft wave on wave, till in its overflow<br>It deluged all the basement while we slept;<br>And where the convent yesterday did stand,<br>There spreads the lake as level as my hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VIII.<br>'And then, when slowly after many days<br>The waters had subsided to the main,<br>And through the toilsome hours we sought to raise<br>Our ever-shattered structure once again,<br>Behold! the earth herself with stone and block<br>Shudders convulsive and begins to rock.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IX.<br>'For lo, the fiends let loose at God's command<br>Burrow and delve in subterranean gloom,<br>Till like the troubled ocean all the land<br>Heaves to and fro as tottering to its doom:<br>The quiet graves themselves now bursting yawn,<br>God's holy house once more lies overthrown!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>X.<br>'And now hath come the hour of darkest need--<br>The people have abandoned us! They wail<br>That their dead fathers rage against our creed,<br>That in dark rushing cloud and roaring gale<br>The houseless spirits ride and fill the air<br>With lamentations for the gods that were!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XI.<br>'The Lord rebukes us in His wrath! I ask,<br>Again I ask, what man among you all<br>Living in deadly sin, yet wears the mask<br>Of sanctity? Yea, let him cleanse his soul,<br>Confessing all the crying guilt of it,<br>Or go for ever to the burning pit!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XII.<br>Again his eagle glances swept each face,<br>While the assembled monks, with anxious sigh,<br>Asked with a thrill of horror and amaze,<br>'Was it indeed a judgment from on high?'<br>As with one voice then cried the saintly throng,<br>'Not I--not I--know of that hidden wrong.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XIII.<br>And with uplifted arms they loudly prayed,<br>'Oh Lord, if in our midst the traitor bides<br>Who breaks the sacramental vow he made,<br>And takes Thy name in vain, and basely hides<br>His wicked ways from every eye save Thine--<br>Let his dark sin stand forth, and make a sign.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XIV.<br>All day expectant, waiting on His will,<br>The monks in reverential silence stand<br>Beneath the rustling pine-trees of the hill,<br>Whence their eyes sweep across the level land:<br>Lo, from afar the vision of a maid<br>Comes o'er the shining pools the flood has made.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XV.<br>Swiftly she came across the devious track,<br>With glimmering waterways on either hand;<br>Against the luminous vapour at her back<br>Her dusky form looms mystically grand;<br>While in the liquid crystal by her side<br>The phantom of herself seems still to glide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XVI.<br>Was she a spirit risen from the grave<br>When its foul depths lay open to the sky,<br>Or ghost of Druid priestess wont to rave<br>Her blasphemous oracles in times gone by,<br>Who ventured thus upon the sacred isle<br>For ever barred against a woman's wile?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XVII.<br>But no! as nearer and more near she draws,<br>They see a maiden with the wild deer's grace<br>Bounding from stone to stone, whose beauty awes<br>These Christian fathers, riveting their gaze;<br>For like the full moon framed in amber air<br>Her face shone mid the glory of her hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XVIII.<br>Then in their midst all breathless did she stand,<br>But paused bewildered and as one affrayed,--<br>Even as a swift wave making for the strand<br>With all its waters gathering to a head<br>Delays, suspended with back-fluttering locks,<br>Then breaks in showers of brine upon the rocks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XIX.<br>So for a moment motionless she stood,<br>From monk to monk her wildered glances stray;<br>Immovable, like figures carved in wood,<br>These waited what their master's lips would say,<br>But ever and anon, in mute appeal,<br>Her piteous eyes to Oran's face would steal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XX.<br>Only for one brief moment she delayed,<br>Struck speechless at his cold averted mien,<br>Then with a long low moan she blindly swayed<br>With her fair arms towards him, and in keen<br>Unutterable anguish cried aghast--<br>'Is this a dream, or am I mad at last?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXI.<br>'Dost thou not know me, Oran--Oran mine?<br>Look on me; I am Mona, I am she<br>For whom thy soul so thirstily did pine!<br>Nay, turn not from me! Say, art thou not he<br>Whose mouth to my mouth yearningly was pressed,<br>Whose dearest head lay pillowed on my breast?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXII.<br>'Dear, be not wroth with me in that I came;<br>For our love's sake look not so stern and grave;<br>Ah, surely thou wilt think me free from blame<br>For having dared to break the word I gave,<br>When I have told thee what has brought me here,<br>How sore distraught I was with grief and fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXIII.<br>Oh love, when night came swooping o'er the sea,<br>And on the poor folk's tired eyelids sleep<br>Fell like a seabird's feather, stealthily<br>I climbed the jagged overhanging steep<br>Whose giddy summit looks towards thy home,<br>Wondering if haply I might see thee come.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXIV.<br>When, lo! the solid cliff began to shake<br>As in an ague fit, and while I stood<br>Trembling, methought the maddening sea would break<br>Its everlasting limits, for the flood<br>Came crashing in loud thunder o'er the land,<br>And swept our huts like seaweed from the sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXV.<br>Then a great horror seized me, and I reeled<br>And fell upon my face, and knew no more.<br>When from that trance I woke, the sun had wheeled<br>Far up the sky and shone upon the shore,<br>And there beneath the bright and cloudless sky<br>I saw a heap of mangled corpses lie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXVI.<br>Shrieking I fled, and paused not in my fright<br>Fleeing I knew not whither, but my feet<br>Flew swift as ever arrow in its flight<br>To thee, my love! Hast thou no smile to greet<br>Thy Mona with,--no kiss? For pity's sake,<br>Speak to me, Oran, or my heart will break.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXVII.<br>All held their breath when she had made her moan:<br>All eyes were fixed on that pale monk, who stood<br>Unnaturally quiet--like a stone<br>Whose flinty sides are fretted by the flood--<br>When St. Columba turned on him, and said,<br>'I bid thee speak,--man, knowest thou this maid?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXVIII.<br>Then answered him the other, but his words<br>Rang hollow like the toll of funeral bell,<br>And on his humid brows like knotted cords<br>The livid veins and arteries seemed to swell,<br>Facing the accusation of his eyes,<br>'Master, I know her not--the woman lies!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXIX.<br>A hum of indignation, doubt, alarm,<br>Ran through their circle, but none durst to speak<br>Before the Master, who with lifted arm<br>And eyes whence fiery flashes seemed to break,<br>Cried very loudly, 'Is it even so,--<br>Then help me God but I will rout this foe!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXX.<br>'Look, brethren, on this lovely maiden, fair<br>As virginal white lilies newly blown,<br>Fresh as the first breath of the vernal air,<br>Pure as an incarnation of the dawn;<br>Look on that golden glory of her hair,--<br>It is a man-trap, Satan's deadliest snare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXI.<br>'Brethren, let the two eldest of you seize<br>This fiend in angel's garb, this beast of prey<br>Which lies in wait behind that snowy fleece<br>Lusting to take our brother's name away,<br>And blast his fame for purest sanctity<br>With lies forged by our common enemy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXII.<br>'Seize her, and bear her to that frightful steep<br>Where, bristling with huge pier and jagged spire,<br>The spectre rock which overhangs the deep<br>Pierces the ghastly clouds like frozen fire;<br>There standing, fling her from its giddiest cone--<br>Into the ocean fling her, like a stone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXIII.<br>The sentence had gone forth; the monks obeyed;<br>Two venerable brothers, deep in years,<br>First crossed themselves, then seized the struggling maid<br>In their stout arms; despite her prayers and tears,<br>And wild appears on him she called her love,<br>They with their burden now began to move.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXIV.<br>But he, whose human flesh seemed petrified<br>To marble, started from that rigid mood,<br>And blindly running after them, he cried,<br>'Hold! hold! stain not your hands with innocent blood;<br>I broke my vow, I am the sinner, I<br>Seduced the maid,--spare her, and let me die.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXV.<br>They halted midway, marvelling, aghast,<br>When St. Columba thundered to them 'Stay!'<br>His voice was like a dreadful battle-blast,<br>And startled coveys rose and whirred away:<br>'He broke his vow, he is the sinner; aye<br>Do as he says--spare her, and let him die!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXVI.<br>'Yea, well I saw the gnawing worm within,<br>But wished to tear the mask from off his soul,<br>That in the naked hideousness of sin<br>He might stand pilloried before you all:<br>This is a judgment on me from above<br>For loving him with more than woman's love.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXVII.<br>His voice here failed him and he hid his face;<br>And as before some imminent storm all sound<br>In earth, air, ocean ceases for a space,<br>There fell a breathless silence on that mound;<br>But when Columba raised his voice once more,<br>It seemed the muffled thunder's boding roar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXVIII.<br>'Oh perjured one! oh breaker of thy vow!<br>Oh base, apostate monk, whose guilt abhorred<br>Weighed down our walls and laid our chapel low!<br>Thy life shall be an offering to the Lord,<br>And with thy blood we will cement the fane<br>Which for thy sin's sake still was built in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>XXXIX.<br>'Seize him, and bear him to that dolorous site<br>Where mid our ruined cells the chapel stands<br>Whose holy walls and columns every night<br>Have fallen beneath the blow of dæmon hands;<br>There, living, bury him beneath its sod,<br>And so propitiate the Lord our God.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mathilde+Blind">Mathilde Blind</a><div class=q>
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'A CURSE is on this work!' Columba cried;
And with their dark robes flapping in the gale,
The frightened monks came hurrying to his side,
And looked at one another turning pale;
For every night the work done in the day
Strewn on the ground in w..."></div>
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