Ossian Collection > Aspects of poetry

354 ^THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE: [xii.
Round and round this pile of state,
Overthrown and desolate !
Now a step or two her way
Is through space of open day,
Where the enamoured sunny light
Brightens her that was so bright ;
Now doth a dehcate shadow fall,
Falls upon her like a breath,
From some lofty arch or wall,
As she passes underneath :
Now some gloomy nook partakes
Of the glory that she makes, —
High-ribbed vault of stone, or cell
With perfect cunning framed as well
Of stone, and ivy, and the spread
Of the elder's bushy head ;
Some jealous and forbidding cell.
That doth the living stars repel,
And where no flower hath leave to dwell.'
I know not any lines in the octosyllabic metre more
perfect in their rhythm, and with melody more attuned
to the meaning and sentiment tliey are intended to
convey. They might be placed next after the most
exquisite parts of CJiristabel. If metre has its origin,
as Coleridge suggests, in the balance produced by
the power of the will striving to hold in check the
working of emotion — if it is the union and interpene-
tration of will and emotion, of impulse and purpose,
I know not where this balance can be seen more
beautifully adjusted. As for the description of the
ruined Bolton Abbey, seen in the light of a Sabbath