FOOTNOTES:[3]Annals and Legends of Calais. By Robert B. Calton. London: J. R. Smith. 1852.
[3]Annals and Legends of Calais. By Robert B. Calton. London: J. R. Smith. 1852.
[3]Annals and Legends of Calais. By Robert B. Calton. London: J. R. Smith. 1852.
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The city of Bang-kok, the capital of Siam, consists of a long, double, and, in some parts, treble row of neatly and tastefully painted wooden cabins, floating on thick bamboo rafts, and linked to each other, in parcels of six or seven houses, by chains; which chains were fastened to huge poles driven into the bed of the river. The whole city rose at once like a magic picture to our admiring gaze.... If the air of the 'Fleet Street' of Siam does not agree with Mrs Yowchowfow and her children, or they wish to obtain a more aristocratic footing by being domiciled higher up and nearer to the king's palace, all they have to do, is to wait till the tide serves, and, loosing from their moorings, float gently up towards the spot they wish to occupy. Bang-kok, the modern capital of Siam, and the seat of the Siamese government, was computed, at the period of my residence there, to consist of 70,000 floating houses or shops, and each shop, taking one with another, to contain five individuals, including men, women, and children; making the population amount to 350,000 souls, of which number 70,000 are Chinese, 20,000 Burmese, 20,000 Arabs and Indians; the remainder, or about 240,000, being Siamese. This was the best census we could take, and I believe it to be nearly accurate. The situation is exceedingly picturesque. I was told that, when the Siamese relinquished the ancient capital of Yuthia, and first established the throne at Bang-kok, the houses were built upon the banks of the river itself; but the frequent recurrence of the cholera induced one of the kings to insist upon the inhabitants living upon the water, on the supposition that their dwellings would be more cleanly, and, consequently, the inmates less subjected to the baneful effects of that scourge of the East.—Neale's Residence in Siam.
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Itwas the hour for evening prayer—there came a goodly throngWithin that dim cathedral church to join the vesper song;Andshewas there amid the crowd, and on the altar stair,As if she were alone she knelt in the depth of her despair.She did not heed the many eyes upon her beauty turned;Onevision still oppressed her soul,onegrief within her burned.The tones of holy minstrelsy, the solemn anthem strain,They were like voices in a dream—as meaningless and vain.Strange tumult reigned within her soul—there came a gush of tears,Deep, wild, as if it bore along the passion-flood of years;And 'Mary! Mary!' was her prayer, and 'Mary!' still she prays,'O give me back the love of old—the light of other days!'A deeper gloom o'erspread the aisles—the altar-lamp grew dim,And fainter still the echoes came from the dying vesper hymn;She listened for an answering voice—but no response was given:The marble steps were cold as death, and silence was in heaven.
Itwas the hour for evening prayer—there came a goodly throngWithin that dim cathedral church to join the vesper song;Andshewas there amid the crowd, and on the altar stair,As if she were alone she knelt in the depth of her despair.
She did not heed the many eyes upon her beauty turned;Onevision still oppressed her soul,onegrief within her burned.The tones of holy minstrelsy, the solemn anthem strain,They were like voices in a dream—as meaningless and vain.
Strange tumult reigned within her soul—there came a gush of tears,Deep, wild, as if it bore along the passion-flood of years;And 'Mary! Mary!' was her prayer, and 'Mary!' still she prays,'O give me back the love of old—the light of other days!'
A deeper gloom o'erspread the aisles—the altar-lamp grew dim,And fainter still the echoes came from the dying vesper hymn;She listened for an answering voice—but no response was given:The marble steps were cold as death, and silence was in heaven.
Within that dim cathedral church once more she stood alone,When from her cheek, and brow, and eye, youth's loveliness had flown;She wandered down the gloomy aisles—no worshippers were there;And on the altar steps she knelt in the depth of her despair.The sunset's parting gleam came down to kiss the pictured pane;Upon the marble stone it flung full many a crimson stain.There was a hush within the air—no holy chant aroseTo fill the aisles with joy, and break the spirit-like repose.A broken reed, she lowly bent—life's passion dream was o'er,And there were tears—repentant tears—not like to those of yore;And murmurs of a nobler faith fixed on the sacred shrine,'O human love so false, so vain! O love that is divine!'Fair shone the symbol of the cross—the altar-lamp grew bright;There came a gleam like trembling stars athwart her spirit's night;She listened for an answering voice—the peace of God was given:The marble steps were cold as death, but gladness was in heaven!
Within that dim cathedral church once more she stood alone,When from her cheek, and brow, and eye, youth's loveliness had flown;She wandered down the gloomy aisles—no worshippers were there;And on the altar steps she knelt in the depth of her despair.
The sunset's parting gleam came down to kiss the pictured pane;Upon the marble stone it flung full many a crimson stain.There was a hush within the air—no holy chant aroseTo fill the aisles with joy, and break the spirit-like repose.
A broken reed, she lowly bent—life's passion dream was o'er,And there were tears—repentant tears—not like to those of yore;And murmurs of a nobler faith fixed on the sacred shrine,'O human love so false, so vain! O love that is divine!'
Fair shone the symbol of the cross—the altar-lamp grew bright;There came a gleam like trembling stars athwart her spirit's night;She listened for an answering voice—the peace of God was given:The marble steps were cold as death, but gladness was in heaven!
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