THE LOVE OF UTHER OR, LEAVES FROM ANCIENT ANNALS PART I DEATH OF AURELIUS UPON his royal couch Aurelius1 lay All sick, and they who loved him, day by day 1 Aurelius Ambrosius, King of Britain, A.D. 484. So hoped the Britons; but the Saxons grew To lay Aurelius low in time of war. Then Eopa to the invaders came, And spake, 'What the reward, and what the name; What will ye give if there be one who'll slay With such brave resolution! I would give A thousand pounds of silver; and while I live To this the Saxon Eopa replied,— 'I am well skilled in Physic; but beside All this I know the manners-speech Of Britons, and in their own tongue can reach The court and king. If thou wilt swear an oath To well perform thy word, I give my troth That I this part all faithful undertake.' Pascentius readily complied-' I make This covenant most solemnly with thee.' He swore the oath; 'twas sealed; and silently Then, with an air of holy sanctity, And offering his services to heal The stricken monarch, promised with great zeal To quickly bring him into health, and make The fount of life with vigour to awake. All willingly they listened him, and gave Then led him to the king: with anxious air 'Drink!' said he, 'and sleep; to-morrow thou wilt think Thou never hadst a pain; thy sickness seem The poor drugged king now slept, and ever slept, No action then, they knew the king was dead, Then in the heavens a mighty star appeared, Gaping; sending forth two other rays of light, Of which one reached to Gaul; one beaming bright Upon the Irish Sea, was finished by Seven other rays of less intensity. And all the people wondered; and great fear Even the gallant Uther now betrayed Disturbance of his mind, as all dismayed Bears this to aught I've seen; now quickly go, If evil doth portend our harassed lines.' Thus Uther spake, and Merlin,-who following Good counsel unto Uther, then lifted high His voice, and with a wail, and woeful cry, While tears adown his cheeks their channels made, Uttered the words of prophecy, and said Alas, alas, the king is dead! Now woe, Now death, now doom is on us all, for lo, The king is dead! Yet, Uther, that bright star Most steadfast on thine head; for, from thee |