Fables in Song :: :: University of Virginia Library

The brave old Mount, by wounding weathers scarr'd,
O'er the low-sunken, safely-shelter'd lea,
Which his grey head from howling gusts did guard,
And o'er the rolling ridges of the sea,
Sent far his grave, calm, satisfied regard;
Then glanced athwart that gloomy Swamp, but she
Sigh'd only, sullen, from her sedgy beach,
As, smiling, he resumed, in mountain-speech:

“O rapturous, wandering wings,
O rivulets, running for ever,
O winds, clouds, waves, happy things!
I, that never may follow you, never
Taste with you a traveller's bliss,
As ye roam over moorland and meadow,
I, at least (and who grudges me this?)
Send forth on his travels my Shadow.
'Tis a gentle and timorous sprite,
That never, except when night
Is falling, ventures far;
And, albeit inquisitive, most
Discreet; not given to boast,
As other travellers are;
Pure, tho' it sleep in the slime;
Shy as a young bird thrown
Unfledged from its nest sublime;
Yet with secret joys of its own;

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And by only two at a time
Is its intimate sweetness known.
But of any two lovers, I pray,
Be it ask'd if they love not the shade:
And the happy ones, boy and maid,
Will blush as they turn away
Sighing and smiling, afraid
Its secret bliss to betray;
Whilst the others, whose hearts be cleft
For the grave of a lost love, laid
Dead in its birthplace,—'reft
Of the hopes that with shadows have play'd,
Will sigh ‘Our sole happiness left
Is to wander and weep in the shade.’
Why is it? They know not why.
'Tis an antique mystery.
This nursling of Night's lone heart
Hath known sorrow, and learn'd to be still
But it cherisheth, pure and apart,
In its own chaste silence chill,
A memory, mighty, immense
Of passionate love and pain;
A memory mixt with a sense
Of deep desire and disdain;
A memory made intense
By a love that was loved in vain!”