The ballad goes on to show how young Bran, from his bed, at morn, at noon, at vesper, asked the warder whether he saw a ship; and when, at last, the warder says he observes one, he couples it with the falsehood that the color of its flag is black.
“When the downcast knight that answer heard, He asked no more, he spake no word. He turned to the wall his face so wan, And shook in the breath of the Mighty One!”
The mother touches the strand; hears a death-bell; asks of a gray-haired man; speeds wildly to the tower:
“At the foot of the tower, to the gaoler grim, She sobbed aloud and she called to him: O! open the gates (my son! my son!) O open the gates (my only son!) They opened the gates; no word they said: Before her there her son lay dead. In her arms she took him so tenderly, And laid her down--never more rose she!”
The ballad then describes an oak, with lofty head, whereon the birds gather at night:
“And amidst them comes ever croaking low, With a young dark raven, an aged crow. Wearily onward they flap their way With drooping wings, soaked through with spray, As they had come from a far countrye; As they had flown o’er a stormy sea. And the birds they sing so sweet and clear That the waves keep very still to hear. They all sing out in a merry tone, They all sing together--save two alone. With mournful voice ever croaking low, Sing, happy birds! says the aged crow, Blest little birds! sing, for you may, _You did not die from home far away_!”
How this noble ballad would have stirred the hearts of the authors of “The Lay of the Last Minstrel” and of “Christabel”!
§ 24. Authors of fiction, from early times, have made use of rings for their scenes. Shakspeare not unfrequently introduces them; indeed the most interesting portion of _Cymbeline_ is worked up through the wager of a ring as to the honor of the heroine. Imogen, in taking leave of Posthumus, says:
“------ Look here, love; This diamond was my mother’s; take it, heart; But keep it till you woo another wife, When Imogen is dead. _Posthumus_. How! how! another? You gentle gods, give me but this I have, And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death! Remain thou here, (_Putting on the ring_,) While sense can keep it on.”