 | Poems |  |
64
CHANGES.
FROM INEZ.
A change, a spell of change, is on me now;
A shadowy cloudland floats round all below;
An aching heart I bear—an altered brow;
Yet know not why.
A shadowy cloudland floats round all below;
An aching heart I bear—an altered brow;
Yet know not why.
No more I seek the deep and odorous shade,
By clustered citrons and flowered myrtles made;
No more the crown of glorious roses braid,
Red as eve's sky;
By clustered citrons and flowered myrtles made;
No more the crown of glorious roses braid,
Red as eve's sky;
No longer love the wild bird's raptured lay,
Thrilling each bright-veined leaf and quivering spray,
Nor carol through the long, long summer's day—
Once, once 'twas so.
Thrilling each bright-veined leaf and quivering spray,
Nor carol through the long, long summer's day—
Once, once 'twas so.
65
Now, alteration's on me and around;
No more with breezy step I dance and bound,
While every fleeting moment, flowery-crowned,
Still seemed to glow.
No more with breezy step I dance and bound,
While every fleeting moment, flowery-crowned,
Still seemed to glow.
No; all is altered! I the most of all;
The working of the spell, the ill, the thrall,
From me doth rise—on me, on me doth fall—
The change is mine.
The working of the spell, the ill, the thrall,
From me doth rise—on me, on me doth fall—
The change is mine.
Still beautiful is summer, morning, earth,
Abounding still with life's exulting mirth;
'Tis from my soul this haunting gloom hath birth,
Which fears refine.
Abounding still with life's exulting mirth;
'Tis from my soul this haunting gloom hath birth,
Which fears refine.
The youth from that deep soul hath passed away,
Mute, mute, and mournful through heaven's loveliest day;
Fallen are the full-blown flowers of life's sweet May,
Its lights are fled.
Mute, mute, and mournful through heaven's loveliest day;
Fallen are the full-blown flowers of life's sweet May,
Its lights are fled.
66
The odours and colours o'er my pathway thrown,
Shadowed or scattered, or like breezes flown—
O, heart! that spell of change was all thine own,
Though wild and dread!
Shadowed or scattered, or like breezes flown—
O, heart! that spell of change was all thine own,
Though wild and dread!
Spring's golden airs, nor summer's golden skies,
Can breathe back hope when hope for ever dies,
Nor smooth life's ravelled thread of mysteries;
It cannot be—
Can breathe back hope when hope for ever dies,
Nor smooth life's ravelled thread of mysteries;
It cannot be—
It cannot be; and if it could, I feel
My dark affections would unbidden steal,
To twine round dreams no language may reveal—
The dreams of memory!
My dark affections would unbidden steal,
To twine round dreams no language may reveal—
The dreams of memory!
Dreams of the lost, the past, the dear, the dead,
Like pallid silver veins through darkness led,
Most precious, though in that dim murky bed
Shrined and enshrouded.
Like pallid silver veins through darkness led,
Most precious, though in that dim murky bed
Shrined and enshrouded.
67
Ah! beautiful and more beautiful thou becomest,
Summer, that through the earth rejoicing roamest,
When o'er the desert's one green spot thou bloomest,
Fair and unclouded!
Summer, that through the earth rejoicing roamest,
When o'er the desert's one green spot thou bloomest,
Fair and unclouded!
O! beautiful and more beautiful thou art,
Nature! unto a schooled and chastened heart,
Which shall to keener feelings swell and start,
Beneath thy sway!
Nature! unto a schooled and chastened heart,
Which shall to keener feelings swell and start,
Beneath thy sway!
All undistracted by Life's petty cares,
Moored from its storms, and fenced in from its snares,
Beguiled from its thorn-roughened thoroughfares,
Till rapt away!
Moored from its storms, and fenced in from its snares,
Beguiled from its thorn-roughened thoroughfares,
Till rapt away!
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