 | Orval, or The Fool of Time |  |
Scene III.—Twilight. Under the walls of the Castle. A
graveyard adjoining a garden. The Castle, lighted in the
background. Dance music from within.
Evil Spirit
(hovering low).
Evil Spirit
(hovering low).
I hear a sound, long silenced, heard
Long since; when in this frozen breast
The burning wells of sense were stirr'd
By that wild music's wandering quest.
Long since, and so long since, alas,
I may no more remember when,
In dream, or wake, my dwelling was
Among the homes and hearts of men.
Long since I heard what now I hear;
My lip was warm with love and wine:
Men's praise was murmur'd in my ear,
So fair a woman's form was mine.
But now the fiends that howl behind
Command my heartless, homeless ghost
Some earthly form more fair to find
Than was the earthly form she lost.
(Over the graves.)Long since; when in this frozen breast
The burning wells of sense were stirr'd
By that wild music's wandering quest.
Long since, and so long since, alas,
I may no more remember when,
In dream, or wake, my dwelling was
Among the homes and hearts of men.
Long since I heard what now I hear;
My lip was warm with love and wine:
Men's praise was murmur'd in my ear,
So fair a woman's form was mine.
19
Command my heartless, homeless ghost
Some earthly form more fair to find
Than was the earthly form she lost.
Blue eyes of Beauty, closed and cold,
Though film'd by death, and stain'd with mould,
Beneath the gravestone dreaming;
Awake! and yield to mine the hue
You give the graveyard violet blue,
When grey March mornings, drench'd with dew,
Among the graves are gleaming.
Though film'd by death, and stain'd with mould,
Beneath the gravestone dreaming;
Awake! and yield to mine the hue
You give the graveyard violet blue,
When grey March mornings, drench'd with dew,
Among the graves are gleaming.
Bright hair of Beauty, mixt with moss,
—Rich threads the red worm runs across,
When to his work he passes;
Float from the grave, and give to mine
The gay gold gleams you grant to shine
Through butter-cups that glitter fine
Between the graveyard grasses.
—Rich threads the red worm runs across,
When to his work he passes;
Float from the grave, and give to mine
The gay gold gleams you grant to shine
Through butter-cups that glitter fine
Between the graveyard grasses.
Red lips of Beauty, bloodless lips,
Whose lover cold, Corruption, slips
Through coffin planks to kiss you;
Yield what, to flush the graveyard rose
With reflex light, your redness throws
Up bramble stems. No bud that blows
From these will miss you.
Whose lover cold, Corruption, slips
Through coffin planks to kiss you;
Yield what, to flush the graveyard rose
With reflex light, your redness throws
Up bramble stems. No bud that blows
From these will miss you.
Ho! Satin sark, on narrow bed,
For a dead Queen's slumber spread,
Slumbering chaste in charnel;
Leave the limbs, though they be cold,
Of the corpse which thou dost fold,
Clothe me! Thou, too, crown of gold,
Deckt with grave-grown darnel!
(Over the flowers.)For a dead Queen's slumber spread,
Slumbering chaste in charnel;
Leave the limbs, though they be cold,
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Clothe me! Thou, too, crown of gold,
Deckt with grave-grown darnel!
Woe to thee, garden! woe
Be to thy warden! Who
Cometh to check me?
Pansy, and passionflower,
Pranking your lady's bower,
Red rose, and lily, shower
Rare blooms to deck me!
Be to thy warden! Who
Cometh to check me?
Pansy, and passionflower,
Pranking your lady's bower,
Red rose, and lily, shower
Rare blooms to deck me!
Red rose, and lily white,
Mine must you be to-night.
Fade ye, and fall ye!
Wrench'd be from root and stem
Flower-gold, and flower-gem!
Deck me my diadem,
Each as I call ye!
Mine must you be to-night.
Fade ye, and fall ye!
Wrench'd be from root and stem
Flower-gold, and flower-gem!
Deck me my diadem,
Each as I call ye!
Blighted this garden be,
Blossom, and branch, and tree!
Perish, or come to
Bloom in my cheek and breast,
Roses and lilies! Rest
Ruin'd and dispossest,
Garden, and home too!
Blossom, and branch, and tree!
Perish, or come to
Bloom in my cheek and breast,
Roses and lilies! Rest
Ruin'd and dispossest,
Garden, and home too!
| Orval, or The Fool of Time | |