ban and arriere ban(班和阿利埃尔·班)

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Ban and Arriere Ban

A Rally of Fugitive Rhymes

Andrew Lang

Ban and Arriere Ban

A SCOT TO JEANNE D'ARC

Dark Lily without blame, Not upon us the shame, Whose sires were to

the Auld Alliance true, They, by the Maiden's side, Victorious fought and

died, One stood by thee that fiery torment through, Till the White Dove

from thy pure lips had passed, And thou wert with thine own St. Catherine

at the last.

Once only didst thou see In artist's imagery, Thine own face painted,

and that precious thing Was in an Archer's hand From the leal Northern

land. Alas, what price would not thy people bring To win that portrait of

the ruinous Gulf of devouring years that hide the Maid from us!

Born of a lowly line, Noteless as once was thine, One of that name I

would were kin to me, Who, in the Scottish Guard Won this for his reward,

To fight for France, and memory of thee: Not upon us, dark Lily without

blame, Not on the North may fall the shadow of that shame.

On France and England both The shame of broken troth, Of coward

hate and treason black must be; If England slew thee, France Sent not one

word, one lance, One coin to rescue or to ransom thee. And still thy

Church unto the Maid denies The halo and the palms, the Beatific prize.

But yet thy people calls Within the rescued walls Of Orleans; and

makes its prayer to thee; What though the Church have chidden These

orisons forbidden, Yet art thou with this earth's immortal Three, With him

in Athens that of hemlock died, And with thy Master dear whom the world

crucified.

Ban and Arriere Ban

HOW THEY HELD THE BASS

FOR KING JAMES--1691-1693

[Time of Narrating--1743]

Ye hae heard Whigs crack o' the Saints in the Bass, my faith, a

gruesome tale; How the Remnant paid at a tippeny rate, for a quart o'

ha'penny ale! But I'll tell ye anither tale o' the Bass, that'll hearten ye up to

hear, Sae I pledge ye to Middleton first in a glass, and a health to the

Young Chevalier!

The Bass stands frae North Berwick Law a league or less to sea, About

its feet the breakers beat, abune the sea-maws flee, There's castle stark and

dungeon dark, wherein the godly lay, That made their rant for the

Covenant through mony a weary day. For twal' years lang the caverns rang

wi' preaching, prayer, and psalm, Ye'd think the winds were soughing wild,

when a' the winds were calm, There wad they preach, each Saint to each,

and glower as the soldiers pass, And Peden wared his malison on a bonny

leaguer lass, As she stood and daffed, while the warders laughed, and wha

sae blithe as she, But a wind o' ill worked his warlock will, and flang her

out to sea. Then wha sae bright as the Saints that night, and an angel came,

say they, And sang in the cell where the Righteous dwell, but he took na a

Saint away. There yet might they be, for nane could flee, and nane daur'd

break the jail, And still the sobbing o' the sea might mix wi' their warlock

wail, But then came in black echty-echt, and bluidy echty-nine, Wi' Cess,

and Press, and Presbytery, and a' the dule sin' syne, The Saints won free

wi' the power o' the key, and cavaliers maun pine! It was Halyburton,

Middleton, and Roy and young Dunbar, That Livingstone took on

Cromdale haughs, in the last fight of the war: And they were warded in the

Bass, till the time they should be slain, Where bluidy Mitchell, and

Blackader, and Earlston lang had lain; Four lads alone, 'gainst a garrison,

but Glory crowns their names, For they brought it to pass that they took

the Bass, and they held it for King James!

It isna by preaching half the night, ye'll burst a dungeon door, It wasna

Ban and Arriere Ban

by dint o' psalmody they broke the hold, they four, For lang years three

that rock in the sea bade Wullie Wanbeard gae swing, And England and

Scotland fause may be, but the Bass Rock stands for the King!

There's but ae pass gangs up the Bass, it's guarded wi' strong gates four,

And still as the soldiers went to the sea, they steikit them, door by door,

And this did they do when they helped a crew that brought their coals on

shore. Thither all had gone, save three men alone: then Middleton gripped

his man, Halyburton felled the sergeant lad, Dunbar seized the gunner,

Swan; Roy bound their hands, in hempen bands, and the Cavaliers were

free. And they trained the guns on the soldier loons that were down wi' the

boat by the sea! Then Middleton cried frae the high cliff-side, and his

voice garr'd the auld rocks ring, 'Will ye stand or flee by the land or sea,

for I hold the Bass for the King?'

They had nae desire to face the fire; it was mair than men might do, So

they e'en sailed back in the auld coal-smack, a sorry and shame- faced

crew, And they hirpled doun to Edinburgh toun, wi' the story of their

shames, How the prisoners bold had broken hold, and kept the Bass for

King James.

King James he has sent them guns and men, and the Whigs they guard

the Bass, But they never could catch the Cavaliers, who took toll of ships

that pass, They fared wild and free as the birds o' the sea, and at night they

went on the wing, And they lifted the kye o' Whigs far and nigh, and they

revelled and drank to the King.

Then Wullie Wanbeard sends his ships to siege the Bass in form, And

first shall they break the fortress down, and syne the Rock they'll storm.

After twa days' fight they fled in the night, and glad eneuch to go, With

their rigging rent, and their powder spent, and many a man laid low.

So for lang years three did they sweep the sea, but a closer watch was

set, Till nae food had they, but twa ounce a day o' meal was the maist

they'd get. And men fight but tame on an empty wame, so they sent a flag

o' truce, And blithe were the Privy Council then, when the Whigs had

heard that news. Twa Lords they sent wi' a strang intent to be dour on each

Cavalier, But wi' French cakes fine, and his last drap o' wine, did

Middleton make them cheer, On the muzzles o' guns he put coats and caps,

Ban and Arriere Ban

and he set them aboot the wa's, And the Whigs thocht then he had food

and men to stand for the Rightfu' Cause. So he got a' he craved, and his

men were saved, and nane might say them nay, Wi' sword by side, and flag

o' pride, free men might they gang their way, They might fare to France,

they might bide at hame, and the better their grace to buy, Wullie

Wanbeard's purse maun pay the keep o' the men that did him defy!

Men never hae gotten sic terms o' peace since first men went to war,

As got Halyburton, and Middleton, and Roy, and the young Dunbar. Sae I

drink to ye here, To the Young Chevalier! I hae said ye an auld man's say,

And there may hae been mightier deeds of arms, but there never was nane

sae gay!

Ban and Arriere Ban

THREE PORTRAITS OF PRINCE

CHARLES

1731

Beautiful face of a child, Lighted with laughter and glee, Mirthful, and

tender, and wild, My heart is heavy for thee!

1744

Beautiful face of a youth, As an eagle poised to fly forth, To the old

land loyal of truth, To the hills and the sounds of the North: Fair face,

daring and proud, Lo! the shadow of doom, even now, The fate of thy line,

like a cloud, Rests on the grace of thy brow!

1773

Cruel and angry face, Hateful and heavy with wine, Where are the

gladness, the grace, The beauty, the mirth that were thine?

Ah, my Prince, it were well,-- Hadst thou to the gods been dear, - To

have fallen where Keppoch fell, With the war-pipe loud in thine ear! To

have died with never a stain On the fair White Rose of Renown, To have

fallen, fighting in vain, For thy father, thy faith, and thy crown! More than

thy marble pile, With its women weeping for thee, Were to dream in thine

ancient isle, To the endless dirge of the sea! But the Fates deemed

otherwise, Far thou sleepest from home, From the tears of the Northern

skies, In the secular dust of Rome.

* * *

A city of death and the dead, But thither a pilgrim came, Wearing on

weary head The crowns of years and fame: Little the Lucrine lake Or

Tivoli said to him, Scarce did the memories wake Of the far-off years and

dim. For he stood by Avernus' shore, But he dreamed of a Northern glen

And he murmured, over and o'er, 'For Charlie and his men:' And his feet,

to death that went, Crept forth to St. Peter's shrine, And the latest Minstrel

bent O'er the last of the Stuart line.

Ban and Arriere Ban

FROM OMAR KHAYYAM

[Rhymed from the prose version of Mr. Justin Huntly M'Carthy]

The Paradise they bid us fast to win Hath Wine and Women; is it then

a sin To live as we shall live in Paradise, And make a Heaven of Earth, ere

Heaven begin?

The wise may search the world from end to end, From dusty nook to

dusty nook, my friend, And nothing better find than girls and wine, Of all

the things they neither make nor mend.

Nay, listen thou who, walking on Life's way, Hast seen no lovelock of

thy love's grow grey Listen, and love thy life, and let the Wheel Of

Heaven go spinning its own wilful way.

Man is a flagon, and his soul the wine, Man is a lamp, wherein the

Soul doth shine, Man is a shaken reed, wherein that wind, The Soul, doth

ever rustle and repine.

Each morn I say, to-night I will repent, Repent! and each night go the

way I went - The way of Wine; but now that reigns the rose, Lord of

Repentance, rage not, but relent.

I wish to drink of wine--so deep, so deep - The scent of wine my

sepulchre shall steep, And they, the revellers by Omar's tomb, Shall

breathe it, and in Wine shall fall asleep.

Before the rent walls of a ruined town Lay the King's skull, whereby a

bird flew down 'And where,' he sang, 'is all thy clash of arms? Where the

sonorous trumps of thy renown?'

Ban and Arriere Ban

AESOP

He sat among the woods, he heard The sylvan merriment: he saw The

pranks of butterfly and bird, The humours of the ape, the daw.

And in the lion or the frog - In all the life of moor and fen, In ass and

peacock, stork and dog, He read similitudes of men.

'Of these, from those,' he cried, 'we come, Our hearts, our brains

descend from these.' And lo! the Beasts no more were dumb, But

answered out of brakes and trees:

'Not ours,' they cried; 'Degenerate, If ours at all,' they cried again, 'Ye

fools, who war with God and Fate, Who strive and toil: strange race of

men.

'For WE are neither bond nor free, For WE have neither slaves nor

kings, But near to Nature's heart are we, And conscious of her secret

things.

'Content are we to fall asleep, And well content to wake no more, We

do not laugh, we do not weep, Nor look behind us and before;

'But were there cause for moan or mirth, 'Tis WE, not you, should sigh

or scorn, Oh, latest children of the Earth, Most childish children Earth has

borne.'

* * *

They spoke, but that misshapen slave Told never of the thing he heard,

And unto men their portraits gave, In likenesses of beast and bird!

Ban and Arriere Ban

LES ROSES DE SADI

This morning I vowed I would bring thee my Roses, They were thrust

in the band that my bodice encloses, But the breast-knots were broken, the

Roses went free. The breast-knots were broken; the Roses together Floated

forth on the wings of the wind and the weather, And they drifted afar down

the streams of the sea.

And the sea was as red as when sunset uncloses, But my raiment is

sweet from the scent of the Roses, Thou shalt know, Love, how fragrant a

memory can be.

Ban and Arriere Ban

THE HAUNTED TOWER

[Suggested by a poem of Theophile Gautier]

In front he saw the donjon tall Deep in the woods, and stayed to scan

The guards that slept along the wall, Or dozed upon the bartizan. He

marked the drowsy flag that hung Unwaved by wind, unfrayed by shower,

He listened to the birds that sung Go forth and win the haunted tower! The

tangled brake made way for him, The twisted brambles bent aside; And lo,

he pierced the forest dim, And lo, he won the fairy bride! For HE was

young, but ah! we find, All we, whose beards are flecked with grey, Our

fairy castle's far behind, We watch it from the darkling way: 'Twas ours,

that palace, in our youth, We revelled there in happy cheer: Who scarce

dare visit now in sooth, Le Vieux Chateau de Souvenir! For not the boughs

of forest green Begird that castle far away, There is a mist where we have

been That weeps about it, cold and grey. And if we seek to travel back 'Tis

through a thicket dim and sere, With many a grave beside the track, And

many a haunting form of fear. Dead leaves are wet among the moss, With

weed and thistle overgrown - A ruined barge within the fosse, A castle

built of crumbling stone! The drawbridge drops from rusty chains, There

comes no challenge from the hold; No squire, nor dame, nor knight

remains, Of all who dwelt with us of old. And there is silence in the hall

No sound of songs, no ray of fire; But gloom where all was glad, and all Is

darkened with a vain desire. And every picture's fading fast, Of fair

Jehanne, or Cydalise. Lo, the white shadows hurrying past, Below the

boughs of dripping trees!

* * *

Ah rise, and march, and look not back, Now the long way has brought

us here; We may not turn and seek the track To the old Chateau de

Souvenir!

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BanandArriereBan1BanandArriereBanARallyofFugitiveRhymesAndrewLangBanandArriereBan2ASCOTTOJEANNED'ARCDarkLilywithoutblame,Notuponustheshame,WhosesiresweretotheAuldAlliancetrue,They,bytheMaiden'sside,Victoriousfoughtanddied,Onestoodbytheethatfierytormentthrough,TilltheWhiteDovefromthypurelipshadpassed...

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ban and arriere ban(班和阿利埃尔·班)

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