Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Cold clear and blue the morning heaven
Expands its arch on high
Cold clear and blue Lake Werna's water
Reflects that winter's sky
The moon has set but Venus shines
A silent silvery star

2. [Will the day be bright or cloudy?]

Will the day be bright or cloudy?
Sweetly has its dawn begun
But the heaven may shake with thunder
Ere the setting of the sun

Lady watch Apollo's journey
Thus thy first born's course shall be—
If his beams through summer vapours
Warm the earth all placidly
Her days shall pass like a pleasant dream in sweet tranquillity

If it darken if a shadow
Quench his rays and summon rain
Flowers may open buds may blossom
Bud and flower alike are vain
Her days shall pass like a mournful story in care and tears and pain

If the wind be fresh and free
The wide skies clear and cloudless blue
The woods and fields and golden flowers
Sparkling in sunshine and in dew
Her days shall pass in Glory's light the world's drear desert through

3. [Tell me tell me smiling child]

Tell me tell me smiling child
What the past is like to thee?
An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully

Tell me what is the present hour?
A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away

And what is the future happy one?
A sea beneath a cloudless sun
A mighty glorious dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity

4. [The inspiring music's thrilling sound]

The inspiring music's thrilling sound
The glory of the festal day
The glittering splendour rising round
Have passed like all earth's joys away

Forsaken by that Lady fair
She glides unheeding through them all
Covering her brow to hide the tear
That still though checked trembles to fall

She hurries through the outer Hall
And up the stairs through galleries dim
That murmur to the breezes' call
The night-wind's lonely vesper hymn

5. [High waving heather 'neath stormy blasts bending]

High waving heather 'neath stormy blasts bending
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending
Man's spirit away from its drear dungeon sending
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars

All down the mountain sides wild forests lending
One mighty voice to the life giving wind
Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending
Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending
Wider and deeper their waters extending
Leaving a desolate desert behind

Shining and lowering and swelling and dying
Changing forever from midnight to noon
Roaring like thunder like soft music sighing
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying
Lightning bright flashes the deep gloom defying
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon

6. [Woods you need not frown on me]

Woods you need not frown on me
Spectral trees that so dolefully
Shake your heads in the dreary sky
You need not mock so bitterly

7. [Start not upon the minster wall]

Start not upon the minster wall
Sunshine is shed in holy calm
And lonely though my footsteps fall
The saints shall shelter thee from harm

Shrink not if it be summer noon
This shadow should right welcome be
These stairs are steep but landed soon
We'll rest us long and quietly

What though our path be o'er the dead
They slumber soundly in the tomb
And why should mortals fear to tread
The pathway to their future home?

8. [Redbreast early in the morning]

Redbreast early in the morning
Dark and cold and cloudy grey
Wildly tender is thy music
Chasing [the angry] thoughts away

My heart is not enraptured now
My eyes are full of tears
And constant sorrow on my brow
Has done the work of years

It was not hope that wrecked at once
The spirit's [early] storm
But a long life of solitude
Hopes quenched and rising thoughts subdued
A bleak November's calm

What woke it then? A little child
Strayed from its father's cottage door
And in the hour of moonlight mild
Laid lonely on the desert moor

I heard it then you heard it too
And seraph sweet it sang to you
But like the shriek of misery
That wild wild music wailed to me

9. [Through the hours of yesternight]

Through the hours of yesternight
Hall and gallery blazed with light
Every lamp its lustre showered
On the adorer and the adored
None were sad that entered there
All were loved and all were fair
Some were dazzling like the sun
Shining down at summer noon
Some were sweet as amber even
Living in the depth of heaven
Some were soft and kind and gay
Morning's face not more divine
Some were like Diana's day
Midnight moonlight's holy shine

10. [There shines the moon, at noon of night—]

There shines the moon, at noon of night—
Vision of glory—Dream of light!
Holy as heaven—undimmed and pure,
Looking down on the lonely moor—
And lonelier still beneath her ray

That drear moor stretches far away
Till it seems strange that aught can lie
Beyond its zone of silver sky—

Bright moon—dear moon! when years have past
My weary feet return at last—
And still upon Lake Elnor's breast
Thy solemn rays serenely rest
And still the Fern-leaves sighing wave
Like mourners over Elbë's grave
And Earth's the same but Oh to see
How wildly Time has altered me!
Am I the being who long ago
Sat watching by that water side
The light of life expiring slow
From his fair cheek and brow of pride?
Not oft these mountains feel the shine
Of such a day—as fading then,
Cast from its fount of gold divine
A last smile on the heathery plain
And kissed the far-off peaks of snow
That gleaming on the horizon shone
As if in summer's warmest glow
Stern winter claimed a loftier throne—
And there he lay among the bloom
His red blood dyed a deeper hue
Shuddering to feel the ghostly gloom
That coming Death around him threw—
Sickening to think one hour would sever
The sweet, sweet world and him forever
To think that twilight gathering dim
Would never pass away to him—
No—never more! That awful thought
A thousand dreary feelings brought,
And memory all her powers combined
And rushed upon his fainting mind.
Wide, swelling woodlands seemed to rise
Beneath soft, sunny, southern skies—
Old Elbë Hall his noble home

Towered 'mid its trees, whose foliage green
Rustled with the kind airs that come
From summer Heavens when most serene
And bursting through the leafy shade
A gush of golden sunshine played;
Bathing the walls in amber light
And sparkling in the water clear
That stretched below—reflected bright
The whole wide world of cloudless air—
And still before his spirit's eye
Such well known scenes would rise and fly
Till, maddening with despair and pain
He turned his dying face to me
And wildly cried, ‘Oh once again
Might I my native country see!
But once again—one single day!
And must it—can it never be?
To die—and die so far away
When life has hardly smiled for me—
Augusta—you will soon return
Back to that land in health and bloom
And then the heath alone will mourn
Above my unremembered tomb
For you'll forget the lonely grave
And mouldering corpse by Elnor's wave’—

11. [The night of storms has passed]

The night of storms has passed
The sunshine bright and clear
Gives glory to the verdant waste
And warms the breezy air

And I would leave my bed
Its cheering smile to see
To chase the visions from my head
Whose forms have troubled me

In all the hours of gloom
My soul was rapt away
I dreamt I stood by a marble tomb
Where royal corpses lay

It was just the time of eve
When parted ghosts might come
Above their prisoned dust to grieve
And wail their woeful doom

And truly at my side
I saw a shadowy thing
Most dim and yet its presence there
Curdled my blood with ghastly fear
And ghastlier wondering

My breath I could not draw
The air seemed ranny
But still my eyes with maddening gaze
Were fixed upon its fearful face
And its were fixed on me

I fell down on the stone
But could [not] turn away
My words died in a voiceless moan
When I began to pray

And still it bent above
Its features full in view
It seemed close by and yet more far
Than this world from the farthest star
That tracks the boundless blue

Indeed 'twas not the space
Of earth or time between
But the sea of death's eternity
The gulf o'er which mortality
Has never never been

O bring not back again
The horror of that hour
When its lips opened and a sound
Awoke the stillness reigning round
Faint as a dream but the earth shrank
And heaven's lights shivered 'neath its power

‘Woe for the day Regina's pride
Regina's hope is in the grave
And who shall rule my land beside
And who shall save

‘Woe for the day with gory tears
My country's sons this day shall rue
Woe for the day a thousand years
Can not repair what one shall do

‘Woe for the day’ mixed with the wind
That sad lament was ringing
It almost broke my heart to hear
Such dreary dreary singing

12. [I saw thee child one summer's day]

I saw thee child one summer's day
Suddenly leave thy cheerful play
And in the green grass lowly lying
I listened to thy mournful sighing

I knew the wish that waked that wail
I knew the source whence sprung those tears
You longed for fate to raise the veil
That darkened over coming years

The anxious prayer was heard and power
Was given me in that silent hour
To open to an infant's eye
The portals of futurity

But child of dust the fragrant flowers
The bright blue sky and velvet sod
Were strange conductors to the bowers
Thy daring footsteps must have trod

I watched my time and summer passed
And Autumn waning fleeted by
And doleful winter nights at last
In cloudy mourning clothed the sky

And now I'm come this evening fell
Not stormily but stilly drear
A sound sweeps o'er thee like a knell
To banish joy and welcome care

A fluttering blast that shakes the leaves
And whistles round the gloomy wall
And lingering long lamenting grieves
For 'tis the spectre's call

He hears me what a sudden start
Sent the blood icy to that heart
He wakens and how ghastly white
That face looks in the dim lamplight

Those tiny hands in vain essay
To thrust the shadowy fiend away
There is a horror on his brow
An anguish in his bosom now

A fearful anguish in his eyes
Fixed strainedly on the vacant air
Heavily bursts in long drawn sighs
His panting breath enchained by fear

Poor child if spirits such as I
Could weep o'er human misery
A tear might flow aye many a tear
To see the road that lies before
To see the sunshine disappear
And hear the stormy waters roar
Breaking upon a desolate shore

Cut off from hope in early day
From power and glory cut away
But it is doomed and morning's light
Must image forth the scowl of night
And childhood's flower must waste its bloom
Beneath the shadow of the tomb

13. [Sleep not dream not this bright day]

Sleep not dream not this bright day
Will not cannot last for aye
Bliss like thine is bought by years
Dark with torment and with tears

Sweeter far than placid pleasure
Purer higher beyond measure
Yet alas the sooner turning
Into hopeless endless mourning

I love thee boy for all divine
All full of God thy features shine
Darling enthusiast holy child
Too good for this world's warring wild
Too heavenly now but doomed to be
Hell-like in heart and misery

And what shall change that angel brow
And quench that spirit's glorious glow
Relentless laws that disallow
True virtue and true joy below

And blame me not if when the dread
Of suffering clouds thy youthful head
If when by crime and sorrow tos[t]
Thy wandering bark is wrecked and los[t]

I too depart I too decline
And make thy path no longer mine
'Tis thus that human minds will turn
All doomed alike to sin and mourn
Yet all with long gaze fixed afar
Adoring virtue's distant star

14. [O God of heaven! the dream of horror]

O God of heaven! the dream of horror
The frightful dream is over now
The sickened heart the blasting sorrow
The ghastly night the ghastlier morrow
The aching sense of utter woe.

The burning tears that would keep welling
The groans that mocked at every tear
That burst from out their dreary dwelling
As if each gasp were life expelling
But life was nourished by despair

The tossing and the anguished pining
The grinding teeth and staring eye
The agony of still repining
When not a spark of hope was shining
From gloomy fate's relentless sky

The impatient rage the useless shrinking
From thoughts that yet could not be borne
The soul that was for ever thinking
Till nature maddened tortured sinking
At last refused to mourn—

It's over now—and I am free
And the ocean wind is caressing me
The wild wind from that wavy main
I never thought to see again

Bless thee Bright Sea—and glorious dome
And my own world my spirit's home
Bless thee—Bless all—I can not speak
My voice is choked, but not with grief
And salt drops from my haggard cheek
Descend like rain upon the heath

How long they've wet a dungeon floor—
Falling on flag-stones damp and grey
I used to weep even in my sleep
The night was dreadful like the day

I used to weep when winter's snow
Whirled through the grating stormily
But then it was a calmer woe
For every thing was drear as me

The bitterest time the worst of all
Was that in which the summer sheen
Cast a green lustre on the wall
That told of Fields of lovelier green

Often I've sat down on the ground
Gazing up to that flush scarce seen
Till heedless of the darkness round
My soul has sought a land serene

It sought the arch of heaven divine
The pure blue heaven with clouds of gold
It sought thy Father's home and mine
As I remembered it of old

O even now too horribly
Come back the feelings that would swell
When with my face hid on my knee
I strove the bursting groans to quell

I flung myself upon the stone
I howled and tore my tangled hair
And then when the first gush had flown
Lay in unspeakable despair

Sometimes a curse sometimes a prayer
Would quiver on my parched tongue
But both without a murmur there
Died in the breast from whence they sprung

And so the day would fade on high
And darkness quench that lonely beam
And slumber mould my misery
Into some strange and spectral dream
Whose phantom horrors made me know
The worst extent of human woe—

But this is past and why return
O'er such a past to brood and mourn?
Shake off the fetters break the chain
And live and love and smile again

The waste of youth the waste of years
Departed in that dungeon's thrall
The gnawing grief the hopeless tears
Forget them—O forget them all—

15. [The battle had passed from the height]

The battle had passed from the height
And still did evening fall
While heaven with its hosts of night
Gloriously canopied all

The dead around were sleeping
On heath and granite grey
And the dying their last watch were keeping
In the closing of the day

How golden bright from earth and heaven
The summer day declines
How gloriously o'er land and sea
The parting sunbeam shines

There is a voice in the wind that waves
Those bright rejoicing trees

Not a vapour had stained the breezeless blue
Not a cloud had dimmed the sun
From the time of morning's earliest dew
Till the summer day was done

And all as pure and all as bright
The [beam] of evening died
And purer still its parting light
Shone in Lake Elnor's tide

Waveless and calm lies that silent deep
In its wilderness of moors
Solemn and soft the moonbeams sleep
Upon its heathy shores

The deer are gathered to their rest
The wild sheep seek the fold

Only some spires of bright green grass
Transparently in sunshine quivering

16. [The sun has set and the long grass now]

The sun has set and the long grass now
Waves drearily in the evening wind
And the wild bird has flown from that old grey stone
In some warm nook a couch to find

In all the lonely landscape round
I see no sight and hear no sound
Except the wind that far away
Comes sighing o'er the heathy sea

17. [Lady in your Palace Hall]

Lady in your Palace Hall
Once perchance my face was seen
Can no memory now recall
Thought again to what has been

18. [And first an hour of mournful musing]

And first an hour of mournful musing
And then a gush of bitter tears
And then a dreary calm diffusing
Its deadly mist o'er joys and cares

And then a throb and then a lightening
And then a breathing from above
And then a star in heaven brightening
The star the glorious star of love

19. [Wind sink to rest in the heather]

Wind sink to rest in the heather
Thy wild voice suits not me
I would have dreary weather
But all devoid of thee

Sun set from that evening heaven
Thy glad smile wins not mine
If light at all is given
O give me Cynthia's shine

20. [Long neglect has worn away]

Long neglect has worn away
Half the sweet enchanting smile
Time has turned the bloom to grey
Mould and damp the face defile

But that lock of silky hair
Still beneath the picture twined
Tells what once those features were
Paints their image on the mind

Fair the hand that traced that line
‘Dearest ever deem me true’
Swiftly flew the fingers fine
When the pen that motto drew

21. [Awaking morning laughs from heaven]

Awaking morning laughs from heaven
On golden summer's forests green
And what a gush of song is given
To welcome in that light serene

A fresh wind waves the clustering roses
And through the open window sighs
Around the couch where she reposes
The lady with the dovelike eyes

With dovelike eyes and shining hair
And velvet cheek so sweetly moulded
And hands so soft and white and fair
Above her snowy bosom folded

Her sister's and her brother's feet
Are brushing off the scented dew
And she springs up in haste to greet
The grass and flowers and sunshine too

22. [Alone I sat the summer day]

Alone I sat the summer day
Had died in smiling light away
I saw it die I watched it fade
From misty hill and breezeless glade

And thoughts in my soul were rushing
And my heart bowed beneath their power
And tears within my eyes were gushing
Because I could not speak the feeling
The solemn joy around me stealing
In that divine untroubled hour

I asked my self O why has heaven
Denied the precious gift to me
The glorious gift to many given
To speak their thoughts in poetry

Dreams have encircled me I said
From careless childhood's sunny time
Visions by ardent fancy fed
Since life was in its morning prime

But now when I had hoped to sing
My fingers strike a tuneless string
And still the burden of the strain
Is strive no more 'tis all in vain

23. A. G. A. to A. E.

Lord of Elbë, on Elbë hill
The mist is thick and the wind is chill
And the heart of thy Friend from the dawn of day
Has sighed for sorrow that thou went away—

Lord of Elbë, how pleasant to me
The sound of thy blithesome step would be
Rustling the heath that, only now
Waves as the night-gusts over it blow

Bright are the fires in thy lonely home
I see them far off, and as deepens the gloom
Gleaming like stars through the high forest-boughs
Gladder they glow in the park's repose—

O Alexander! when I return,
Warm as those hearths my heart would burn,
Light as thine own, my foot would fall
If I might hear thy voice in the hall—

But thou art now on a desolate sea—
Parted from Gondal and parted from me—
All my repining is hopeless and vain,
Death never yields back his victims again—

24. [The organ swells the trumpets sound]

The organ swells the trumpets sound
The lamps in triumph glow
And none of all those thousands round
Regards who sleeps below

Those haughty eyes that tears should fill
Glance clearly cloudlessly
Those bounding breasts that grief should thrill
From thought of grief are free

His subjects and his soldiers there
They blessed his rising bloom
But none a single sigh can spare
To breathe above his tomb

Comrades in arms I've looked to mark
One shade of feeling swell
As your feet trod above the dark
Recesses of his cell

25. [A sudden chasm of ghastly light]

A sudden chasm of ghastly light
Yawned in the city's reeling wall
And a long thundering through the night
Proclaimed our triumph—Tyrdarum's fall—

The shrieking wind sank mute and mild
The smothering snow-clouds rolled away
And cold—how cold!—wan moonlight smiled
Where those black ruins smouldering lay

'Twas over—all the Battle's madness
The bursting fires the cannons' roar
The yells, the groans the frenzied gladness
The death the danger warmed no more

In plundered churches piled with dead
The heavy charger neighed for food
The wounded soldier laid his head
'Neath roofless chambers splashed with blood

I could not sleep through that wild siege
My heart had fiercely burned and bounded
The outward tumult seemed to assuage
The inward tempest it surrounded

But . . . cannot bear
And silence whets the tang of pain
I felt the full flood of despair
Returning to my breast again

My couch lay in a ruined Hall
Whose windows looked on the minster-yard
Where chill chill whiteness covered all
Both stone and urn and withered sward

The shattered glass let in the air
And with it came a wandering moan
A sound unutterably drear
That made me shrink to be alone

One black yew-tree grew just below
I thought its boughs so sad might wail
Their ghostly fingers flecked with snow
Rattled against an old vault's rail

I listened—no 'twas life that still
Lingered in some deserted heart
O God what caused that shuddering thrill?
That anguished agonizing start?

An undefined an awful dream
A dream of what had been before
A memory whose blighting beam
Was flitting o'er me ever more

A frightful feeling frenzy born—
I hurried down the dark oak stair
I reached the door whose hinges torn
Flung streaks of moonshine here and there

I pondered not I drew the bar
An icy glory [caught] mine eye
From that wide heaven where every star
Glared like a dying memory

And there the great cathedral rose
Discrowned but most majestic so
It looked down in [serene] repose
On its own realm of buried woe

26. [The old church tower and garden wall]

The old church tower and garden wall
Are black with Autumn rain
And dreary winds foreboding call
The darkness down again

I watched how evening took the place
Of glad and glorious day
I watched a deeper gloom efface
The evening's lingering ray

And as I gazed on the cheerless sky
Sad thoughts rose in my mind

27. Lines

[Far away is the land of rest]

Far away is the land of rest
Thousand miles are stretched between
Many a mountain's stormy crest
Many a desert void of green

Wasted worn is the traveller
Dark his heart and dim his eye
Without hope or comforter
Faltering faint and ready to die

Often he looks to the ruthless sky
Often he looks o'er his dreary road
Often he wishes down to lie
And render up life's tiresome load

But yet faint not mournful man
Leagues on leagues are left behind
Since your sunless course began
Then go on to toil resigned

If you still despair control
Hush its whispers in your breas[t]
You shall reach the final goal
You shall win the land of rest

28. [Now trust a heart that trusts in you]

Now trust a heart that trusts in you
And firmly say the word Adieu
Be sure wherever I may roam
My heart is with your heart at home

Unless there be no truth on earth
And vows meant true are nothing worth
And mortal man have no control
Over his own unhappy soul

Unless I change in every thought
And memory will restore me nought
And all I have of virtue die
Beneath far Gondal's Foreign sky

The mountain peasant loves the heath
Better than richest plains beneath
He would not give one moorland wild
For all the fields that ever smiled

And whiter brows than yours may be
And rosier cheeks my eyes may see
And lightning looks from orbs divine
About my pathway burn and shine

But that pure light changeless and strong
Cherished and watched and nursed so long
That love that first its glory gave
Shall be my pole star to the grave

29. [Sleep brings no joy to me]

Sleep brings no joy to me
Remembrance never dies
My soul is given to misery
And lives in sighs

Sleep brings no rest to me
The shadows of the dead
My waking eyes may never see
Surround my bed

Sleep brings no hope to me
In soundest sleep they come
And with their doleful imagery
Deepen the gloom

Sleep brings no strength to me
No power renewed [to] brave
I only sail a wilder sea
A darker wave

Sleep brings no friend to me
To soothe and aid to bear
They all gaze on how scornfully
And I despair

Sleep brings no wish to knit
My harassed heart beneath
My only wish is to forget
In the sleep of death

30. [Strong I stand though I have borne]

Strong I stand though I have borne
Anger hate and bitter scorn
Strong I stand and laugh to see
How mankind have fought with me

Shade of mast'ry I contemn
All the puny ways of men
Free my heart my spirit free
Beckon and I'll follow thee

False and foolish mortal know
If you scorn the world's disdain
Your mean soul is far below
Other worms however vain

Thing of Dust—with boundless pride
Dare you ask me for a guide
With the humble I will be
Haughty men are nought to me

31. [The night is darkening round me]

The night is darkening round me
The wild winds coldly blow
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot cannot go

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow
And the storm is fast descending
And yet I cannot go

Clouds beyond clouds above me
Wastes beyond wastes below
But nothing drear can move me
I will not cannot go

I'll come when thou art saddest
Laid alone in the darkened room
When the mad day's mirth has vanished
And the smile of joy is banished
From evening's chilly gloom

I'll come when the heart's [real] feeling
Has entire unbiased sway
And my influence o'er thee stealing
Grief deepening joy congealing
Shall bear thy soul away

Listen 'tis just the hour
The awful time for thee
Dost thou not feel upon thy soul
A flood of strange sensations roll
Forerunners of a sterner power
Heralds of me

I would have touched the heavenly key
That spoke alike of bliss and thee
I would have woke the entrancing song
But its words died upon my tongue
And then I knew that hallowed strain
Could never speak of joy again
And then I felt

32. To a Wreath of Snow

O transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a prisoner lies?

Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this mourning brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing so frail as thou

They would have done it had they known
The talisman that dwelt in thee,
For all the suns that ever shone
Have never been so kind to me!

For many a week, and many a day
My heart was weighed with sinking gloom
When morning rose in mourning grey
And faintly lit my prison room,

But angel like, when I awoke,
Thy silvery form so soft and fair
Shining through darkness, sweetly spoke
Of cloudy skies and mountains bare

The dearest to a mountaineer
Who, all life long has loved the snow
That crowned her native summits drear,
Better, than greenest plains below—

And voiceless, soulless messenger
Thy presence waked a thrilling tone
That comforts me while thou art here
And will sustain when thou art gone

33. Song by Julius Angora

Awake! awake! how loud the stormy morning
Calls up to life the nations resting round;
Arise, Arise, is it the voice of mourning
That breaks our slumber with so wild a sound?

The voice of mourning? Listen to its pealing;
That shout of triumph drowns the sigh of woe;
Each tortured heart forgets its wonted feeling,
Each faded cheek resumes its long-lost glow—

Our souls are full of gladness, God has given
Our arms to victory, our foes to death;
The crimson ensign waves its sheet in heaven—
The sea-green Standard lies in dust be[neath].

Patriots, no stain is on your country's glory
Soldiers, preserve that glory bright and free
Let Almedore in peace, and battle gory,
Be still a nobler name for victory!

34. Lines

[I die but when the grave shall press]

I die but when the grave shall press
The heart so long endeared to thee
When earthly cares no more distress
And earthly joys are nought to me

Weep not, but think that I have past
Before thee o'er a sea of gloom
Have anchored safe and rest at last
Where tears and mourning cannot come

'Tis I should weep to leave thee he[re]
On that dark Ocean sailing drear
With storms around and fears before
And no kind light to point the shore

But long or short though life may be
'Tis nothing to eternity
We part below to meet on high
Where blissful ages never die

35. [O mother I am not regretting]

O mother I am not regretting
To leave this wretched world below
If there be nothing but forgetting
In that dark land to which I go

Yet though 'tis wretched now to languish
Deceived and tired and hopeless here
No heart can quite repress the anguish
Of leaving things that once were dear

Twice twelve short years and all is over
And day and night to rise no more
And never more to be a rover
Along the fields the woods the shore

And never more at early dawning
To watch the stars of midnight wane
To breathe the breath of summer morning
And see its sunshine ne'er again

I hear the Abbey bells are ringing
Methinks their chime sound faint and drear
Or else the wind is adverse winging
And wafts its music from my ear

The wind the winter night is speaking
Of thoughts and things that should not stay
Mother come near my heart is breaking
I cannot bear to go away

And I must go whence no returning
To soothe your grief or calm your care
Nay do not weep that bitter mourning
Tortures my soul with wild despair

No tell me that when I am lying
In the old church beneath the stone
You'll dry your tears and check your sighing
And soon forget the spirit gone

You've asked me long to tell what sorrow
Has blanched my cheek and quenched my eye
And we shall sever ere tomorrow
So I'll confess before I die

Ten years ago in last September
Fernando left his home and you
And still I think you must remember
The anguish of that last adieu

And well you know how wildly pining
I longed to see his face again
Through all the Autumn's drear declining
Its stormy nights and days of rain

Down on the skirts of Areon's forest
There lies a lone and lovely glade
And there the hearts together nourished
Their first their fatal parting made

The afternoon in softened glory
So Bathed each green swell and waving tree
Beyond the broad park spread before me
Stretched far away the boundless sea

And there I stood when he had left me
With ashy cheek but tearless eye
Watching the ship whose sail bereft me
Of life and hope and peace and joy

It past that night I sought a pillow
Of sleepless woe and grieving lone
My soul still hovered o'er the billow
And mourned a love for ever flown

Yet smiling bright in recollection
One blissful hour returns to me
One letter told of firm affection
Of safe deliverance from the sea

But not another fearing hoping
Spring winter harvest glided o'er
And time at length brought power for coping
With thoughts I could not once endure

And I would seek in summer's evening
The place that saw our last farewell
And there a chain of visions weaving
I'd linger till the curfew bell

36. [Weaned from life and torn away]

Weaned from life and torn away
In the morning of thy day
Bound in everlasting gloom
Buried in a hopeless tomb

Yet upon thy bended knee
Thank the power banished thee
Chain and bar and dungeon wall
Saved thee from a deadlier thrall

Thank the power that made thee part
Ere that parting broke thy heart
Wildly rushed the mountain spring
From its source of fern and ling
How invincible its roar
Had its waters won the shore

37. [I'm happiest when most away]

I'm happiest when most away
I can bear my soul from its home of clay
On a windy night when the moon is bright
And my eye can wander through worlds of light

When I am not and none beside
Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky
But only spirit wandering wide
Through infinite immensity

38. [Deep deep down in the silent grave]

Deep deep down in the silent grave
With none to mourn above

Here with my knee upon thy stone
I bid adieu to feelings gone
I leave with thee my tears and pain
And rush into the world again

O come again what chains withhold
The steps that used so fleet to be—
Come leave thy dwelling dark and cold
Once more to visit me

Was it with the fields of green
Blowing flower and budding tree
With the summer heaven serene
That thou didst visit me?

No 'twas not the flowery plain
No 'twas not the fragrant air
Summer skies will come again
But thou wilt not be there—

39. [How loud the storm sounds round the Hall!]

How loud the storm sounds round the Hall!
From arch to arch from door to door
Pillar and roof and granite wall
Rock like a cradle in its roar

That Elm tree by the haunted well
Greets no returning summer skies
Down with a rush the giant fell
And stretched athwart the path it lies

Hardly had passed the funeral train
So long delayed by wind and snow
And how they'll reach the house again
Tomorrow's dawn perhaps will show

40. [What use is it to slumber here]

What use is it to slumber here:
Though the heart be sad and weary?
What use is it to slumber here
Though the day rise dark and dreary

For that mist may break when the sun is high
And this soul forget its sorrow
And the rosy ray of the closing day
May promise a brighter morrow

41. [O evening why is thy light so sad?]

O evening why is thy light so sad?
Why is the sun's last ray so cold
Hush our smile is as ever glad
But thy heart is growing old

It's over now I've known it all
I'll hide it in my heart no more
But back again that night recall
And think the fearful vision o'er

The evening sun in cloudless shine
Had passed from summer's heaven divine
And dark the shades of twilight grew
And stars were in the depth of blue

And in the heath on mountains far
From human eye and human care
With thoughtful heart and tearful eye
I sadly watched that solemn sky

42. [The wide cathedral Aisles are lone]

The wide cathedral Aisles are lone
The vast crowds vanished every one
There can be nought beneath that dome
But the cold tenants of the tomb

O look again for still on high
The lamps are burning gloriously
And look again for still beneath
A thousand thousand live and breathe

All mute as death regard the shrine
That gleams in lustre so divine
Where Gondal's monarchs bending low
After the hush of silent prayer
Take in heaven's sight their awful vow
And never dying union swear
King Julius lifts his impious eye
From the dark marble to the sky
Blasts with that Oath his perjured soul
And changeless is his cheek the while
Though burning thoughts that spurn control
Kindle a short and bitter smile

As face to face the kinsmen stand
His false hand clasped in Gerald's hand

43. [O hinder me by no delay]

O hinder me by no delay
My horse is weary of the way
And still his breast must stem the tide
Whose waves are foaming far and wide
Leagues off I heard their thundering roar
As fast they burst upon the shore
A stronger steed than mine might dread
To brave them in their boiling bed

Thus spoke the traveller but in vain
The stranger would not turn away
Still clung she to his bridle rein
And still entreated him to stay

44. [Darkness was overtraced on every face]

Darkness was overtraced on every face
Around clouded with storm and ominous gloom
In Hut or hall smiled out no resting place
There was no resting place but one—the tomb

All our hearts were the mansions of distress
And no one laughed and none seemed free from care
Our children felt their fathers' wretchedness
Our homes one all were shadowed with despair

It was not fear that made the land so sad

45. [Harp of wild and dream like strain]

Harp of wild and dream like strain
When I touch thy strings
Why dost thou repeat again
Long forgotten things?

Harp in other earlier days
I could sing to thee
And not one of all my lays
Vexed my memory

But now if I awake a note
That gave me joy before
Sounds of sorrow from thee float
Changing evermore

Yet still steeped in memory's dyes
They come sailing on
Darkening all my summer skies
Shutting out my sun

46. Song to A. A.

This shall be thy lullaby
Rocking on the stormy sea
Though it roar in thunder wild
Sleep stilly sleep my dark haired child

When our shuddering boat was crossing
Elderno lake so rudely tossing
Then 'twas first my nursling smiled
Sleep softly sleep my fair-browed child

Waves above thy cradle break
Foamy tears are on thy cheek
Yet the Ocean's self grows mild
When it bears my slumbering child

47. [Why do I hate that lone green dell?]

Why do I hate that lone green dell?
Buried in moors and mountains wild
That is a spot I had loved too well
Had I but seen it when a child

There are bones whitening there in the summer's heat
But it is not for that and none can tell
None but one can the secret repeat
Why I hate that lone green dell

Noble foe I pardon thee
All thy cold and scornful pride
For thou wast a priceless friend to me
When my sad heart had none beside

And leaning on thy generous arm
A breath of old times over me came
The earth shone round with a long lost charm
Alas I forgot I was not the same

Before a day—an hour passed by
My spirit knew itself once more
I saw the gilded vapours fly
And leave me as I was before

48. A. G. A. to A. S.

O wander not so far away!
O love, forgive this selfish tear.
It may be sad for thee to stay
But how can I live lonely here?

The still May morn is warm and bright
Young flowers look fresh and grass is green
And in the haze of glorious light
Our long low hills are scarcely seen—

The woods—even now their small leaves hide
The blackbird and the stockdove well
And high in heaven so blue and wide
A thousand strains of music swell—

He looks on all with eyes that speak
So deep, so drear a woe to me!
There is a faint red on his cheek
Not like the bloom I used to see.

Can Death—yes, Death, he is thine own!
The grave must close those limbs around
And hush, for ever hush the tone
I loved above all earthly sound.

Well, pass away with the other flowers
Too dark for them, too dark for thee
Are the hours to come, the joyless hours
That Time is treasuring up for me.

If thou hast sinned in this world of care
'Twas but the dust of thy drear abode—
Thy soul was pure when it entered here
And pure it will go again to God—

49. Gleneden's Dream

Tell me, watcher, is it winter?
Say how long my sleep has been?
Have the woods I left so lovely,
Lost their robes of tender green?

Is the morning slow in coming?
Is the nighttime loath to go?
Tell me, are the dreary mountains
Drearier still with drifted snow?

‘Captive, since thou sawest the forest
All its leaves have died away
And another March has woven
Garlands for another May—

‘Ice has barred the Arctic water,
Soft south winds have set it free
And once more to deep green valley
Golden flowers might welcome thee’—

Watcher, in this lonely prison,
Shut from joy and kindly air
Heaven, descending in a vision
Taught my soul to do and bear—

It was night, a night of winter;
I lay on the dungeon floor,
And all other sounds were silent—
All, except the river's roar—

Over Death, and Desolation,
Fireless hearths, and lifeless homes
Over orphans' heart-sick sorrows,
Over fathers' bloody tombs;

Over friends that my arms never
Might embrace, in love again—
Memory pondered until madness
Struck its poignard in my brain—

Deepest slumber followed raving
Yet, methought, I brooded still
Still I saw my country bleeding
Dying for a Tyrant's will—

Not because my bliss was blasted
Burned within, the avenging flame—
Not because my scattered kindred
Died in woe, or lived in shame

God doth know, I would have given
Every bosom dear to me
Could that sacrifice have purchased
Tortured Gondal's liberty!

But, that at Ambition's bidding
All her cherished hopes should wane;
That her noblest sons should muster,
Strive, and fight and fall in vain—

Hut and castle, hall and cottage,
Roofless, crumbling to the ground—
Mighty Heaven, a glad Avenger
Thy eternal justice found!

Yes, the arm that once would shudder
Even to pierce a wounded deer,
I beheld it, unrelenting,
Choke in blood its sovereign's prayer—

Glorious dream! I saw the city
Blazing in imperial shine;
And among adoring thousands
Stood a man of form divine—

None need point the princely victim
Now he smiles with royal pride!
Now his glance is bright as lightning:
Now—the knife is in his side!

Ha, I saw how Death could darken—
Darken that triumphant eye!
His red heart's blood drenched my dagger;
My ear drank his dying sigh!

Shadows come! What means this midnight?
O my God, I know it all!
Know the fever-dream is over;
Unavenged the Avengers fall!

50. [None of my kindred now can tell]

None of my kindred now can tell
The features once beloved so well
Those dark brown locks that used to deck
A snowy brow in ringlets small
Now wildly shade my sunburnt neck
And streaming down my shoulders fall

The pure bright red of noble birth
Has deepened to a gipsy glow
And care has quenched the smile of mirth
And tuned my heart to welcome woe

Yet you must know in infancy
Full many an eye watched over me
Sweet voices to my slumber sung
My downy couch with silk was hung

And music soothed me when I cried
And when I laughed they all replied
And ‘rosy Blanche’ how oft was heard
In hall and bower that well-known word

Through gathering summers still caress'd
In kingly courts a favourite guest
A Monarch's hand would pour for me
The richest gifts of royalty

But clouds will come too soon they came
For not through age and not through crime
Is Blanche a now forgotten name
True heart and brow unmarked by time
These treasured blessings still are mine

51. ['Twas one of those dark cloudy days]

'Twas one of those dark cloudy days
That sometimes come in summer's blaze
When heaven drops not when earth is still
And deeper green is on the hill

52. [Lonely at her window sitting]

Lonely at her window sitting
While the evening stole away
Fitful winds foreboding flitting
Through a sky of cloudy grey

53. [There are two trees in a lonely field]

There are two trees in a lonely field
They breathe a spell to me
A dreary thought their dark boughs yield
All waving solemnly

54. [What is that smoke that ever still]

What is that smoke that ever still
Comes rolling down that dark brown hill

55. [Still as she looked the iron clouds]

Still as she looked the iron clouds
Would part and sunlight shone between
But drearily strange and pale and cold

56. [Away away resign me now]

Away away resign me now
To scenes of gloom and thoughts of fear
I trace the signal on thy brow
Welcome at last though once so drear

57. [It will not shine again]

It will not shine again
Its sad course is done
I have seen the last ray wane
Of the cold bright sun

58. [None but one beheld him dying]

None but one beheld him dying
Parting with the parting day
Winds of evening sadly sighing
Bore his soul from earth away

59. [Coldly bleakly drearily]

Coldly bleakly drearily
Evening died on Elbë's shore
Winds were in the cloudy sky
Sighing mourning ever more

60. [Old Hall of [Elbë] ruined lonely now]

Old Hall of [Elbë] ruined lonely now
House to which the voice of life shall never more return
Chambers roofless desolate where weeds and ivy grow
Windows through whose broken arches the night winds sadly mourn
Home of the departed the long departed dead

61. Douglas's Ride

Well, narrower draw the circle round
And hush that organ's solemn sound
And quench the lamp and stir the fire
To rouse its flickering radiance higher;
Loop up the window's velvet veil
That we may hear the night-wind wail—
For wild those gusts and well their chimes
Blend with a song of troubled times—

Song

What rider up Gobelrin's glen
Has spurred his straining steed,
And fast and far from living men
Has pressed with maddening speed?

I saw his hoof-prints mark the rock
When swift he left the plain
I heard deep down, the echoing shock
Re-echo back again.

From cliff to cliff, through rock and heath
That coal-black courser bounds;
Nor heeds the river pent beneath,
Nor marks how fierce it sounds.

With streaming hair and forehead bare
And mantle waving wide
His master rides; the eagles there
Soar up on every side:

The goats fly by with timid cry
Their realm so rashly won:
They pause—he still ascends on high
They gaze, but he is gone.

O gallant horse hold on thy course!
The road is tracked behind—
Spur, rider, spur, or vain thy force
Death comes on every wind.

Roared thunder loud from that pitchy cloud?
[From] it the torrents flow?
Or woke the breeze in the swaying trees
That frown so dark below?

He breathes at last, when the valley is past;
He rests on the grey rock's brow.
What ails thee steed? At thy master's need,
Wilt thou prove faithless now?

No, hardly checked, with ears erect,
The charger champed his rein,
Ere his quivering limbs, all foam-beflecked,
Were off like light again.

Hark through the pass, with threatening crash
Comes on the increasing roar!
But what shall brave the deep, deep wave?
The deadly path before?

Their feet are dyed in a darker tide
Who dare those dangers drear—
Their breasts have burst through the battle's worst
And why should they tremble here?

Strong hearts they bear and arms as good
To conquer or to fall
They dash into the boiling flood,
They gain the rock's steep wall—

‘Now my bold men this one pass more
This narrow chasm of stone
And Douglas—for our sovereign's gore
Shall yield us back his own’—

I hear their ever nearing tread
Sound through the granite glen,
There is a tall pine overhead
Laid by the mountain men

That dizzy bridge which no horse could track
Has checked the outlaw's way;
There like a wild beast he turns back
And grimly stands at bay.

Why smiles he so when far below
He sees the toiling chase?
The ponderous tree sways heavily
And totters from its place—

They raise their eyes for the sunny skies
Are lost in sudden shade,
But Douglas neither shrinks nor flies—
He need not fly the dead—

62. [For him who struck thy foreign string]

For him who struck thy foreign string
I ween this heart hath ceased to care
Then why dost thou such feelings bring
To my sad spirit, old guitar?

It is as if the warm sunlight
In some deep glen should lingering stay
When clouds of tempest and of night
Had wrapped the parent orb away—

It is as if the glassy brook
Should image still its willows fair
Though years ago the woodman's stroke
Laid low in dust their gleaming hair:

Even so, guitar, thy magic tone
Hath moved the tear and waked the sigh
Hath bid the ancient torrent flow
Although its very source is dry!

63. [In dungeons dark I cannot sing]

In dungeons dark I cannot sing
In sorrow's thrall 'tis hard to smile
What bird can soar with broken wing
What heart can bleed and joy the while

64. [The evening sun was sinking down]

The evening sun was sinking down
On low green hills and clustered trees
It was a scene as fair and lone
As ever felt the soothing breeze

That bends the grass when day is gone
And gives the wave a brighter blue
And makes the soft white clouds sail on
Like spirits of ethereal dew

Which all the morn had hovered o'er
The azure flowers where they were nursed
And now return to heaven once more
Where their bright glories shone at first

65. [Fall leaves fall die flowers away]

Fall leaves fall die flowers away
Lengthen night and shorten day
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day

66. Song by Julius Brenzaida

Geraldine, the moon is shining
With so soft, so bright a ray,
Seems it not that eve, declining
Ushered in a fairer day?

While the wind is whispering only,
Far—across the water borne
Let us, in this silence lonely
Sit beneath the ancient thorn—

Wild the road, and rough and dreary;
Barren all the moorland round;
Rude the couch that rests us weary;
Mossy stone and heathy ground—

But when winter storms were meeting
In the moonless midnight dome
Did we heed the tempest's beating
Howling round our spirits' home?

No, that tree, with branches riven
Whitening in the whirl of snow,
As it tossed against the heaven,
Sheltered happy hearts below—

And at Autumn's mild returning
Shall our feet forget the way?
And in Cynthia's silver morning,
Geraldine, wilt thou delay?

67. Song by J. Brenzaida to G. S.

I knew not 'twas so dire a crime
To say the word, Adieu:
But this shall be the only time
My slighted heart shall sue.

The wild moorside, the winter morn,
The gnarled and ancient tree—
If in your breast they waken scorn
Shall wake the same in me.

I can forget black eyes and brows
And lips of rosy charm
If you forget the sacred vows
Those faithless lips could form—

If hard commands can tame your love,
Or prison walls can hold
I would not wish to grieve above
A thing so false and cold—

And there are bosoms bound to mine
With links both tried and strong;
And there are eyes whose lightning shine
Has warmed and blessed me long:

Those eyes shall make my only day,
Shall set my spirit free
And chase the foolish thoughts away
That mourn your memory!

68. [Where were ye all? and where wert thou]

Where were ye all? and where wert thou
I saw an eye that shone like thine
But dark curls waved around his brow
And his stern glance was strange to mine

And yet a dreamlike comfort came
Into my heart and anxious eye
And trembling yet to hear his name
I bent to listen watchfully

His voice though never heard before
Still spoke to me of years gone by
It seemed a vision to restore
That brought the hot tears to my eye

69. [I paused on the threshold I turned to the sky]

I paused on the threshold I turned to the sky
I looked on the heaven and the dark mountains round
The full moon sailed bright through that Ocean on high
And the wind murmured past with a wild eerie sound

And I entered the walls of my dark prison-house
Mysterious it rose from the billowy moor

70. [O come with me thus ran the song]

O come with me thus ran the song
The moon is bright in Autumn's sky
And thou hast toiled and laboured long
With aching head and weary eye

71. F. De Samara to A. G. A.

Light up thy halls! 'Tis closing day;
I'm drear and lone and far away—
Cold blows on my breast, the north wind's bitter sigh
And oh, my couch is bleak beneath the rainy sky!

Light up thy halls—and think not of me;
That face is absent now, thou hast hated so to see—
Bright be thine eyes, undimmed their dazzling shine,
For never, never more shall they encounter mine!

The desert moor is dark; there is tempest in the air;
I have breathed my only wish in one last, one burning prayer—
A prayer that would come forth although it lingered long;
That set on fire my heart, but froze upon my tongue—

And now, it shall be done before the morning rise;
I will not watch the sun ascend in yonder skies.
One task alone remains—thy pictured face to view
And then I go to prove if God, at least, be true!

Do I not see thee now? Thy black resplendent hair;
Thy glory-beaming brow, and smile how heavenly fair!
Thine eyes are turned away—those eyes I would not see;
Their dark, their deadly ray would more than madden me

There, go, Deceiver, go! My hand is streaming wet,
My heart's blood flows to buy the blessing—To forget!
Oh could that lost heart give back, back again to thine
One tenth part of the pain that clouds my dark decline!

Oh could I see thy lids weighed down in cheerless woe;
Too full to hide their tears, too stern to overflow;
Oh could I know thy soul with equal grief was torn
This fate might be endured—this anguish might be borne!

How gloomy grows the Night! 'Tis Gondal's wind that blows
I shall not tread again the deep glens where it rose—
I feel it on my face—Where, wild blast, dost thou roam?
What do we, wanderer, here, so far away from home?

I do not need thy breath to cool my death-cold brow
But go to that far land, where she is shining now;
Tell Her my latest wish, tell Her my dreary doom;
Say, that my pangs are past, but Hers are yet to come—

Vain words—vain, frenzied thoughts! No ear can hear me call—
Lost in the vacant air my frantic curses fall
And could she see me now, perchance her lip would smile
Would smile in careless pride and utter scorn the while!

And yet, for all her hate, each parting glance would tell
A stronger passion breathed, burned in this last farewell—
Unconquered in my soul the Tyrant rules me still—
Life bows to my control, but, Love I cannot kill!

72. [When days of Beauty deck the earth]

When days of Beauty deck the earth
Or stormy nights descend
How well my spirit knows the path
On which it ought to wend

It seeks the consecrated spot
Beloved in childhood's years
The space between is all forgot
Its sufferings and its tears

73. [Still beside that dreary water]

Still beside that dreary water
Stood he 'neath the cold moon ray
Thinking on the deed of slaughter
On his heart that darkly lay

Soft the voice that broke his dreaming
Stealing through the silent air
Yet before the raven's screaming
He had heard regardless there

Once his name was sweetly uttered
Then the echo died away
But each pulse in horror uttered
As the life would pass away

74. [There swept adown that dreary glen]

There swept adown that dreary glen
A wilder sound than mountain wind
The thrilling shouts of fighting men
With something sadder far behind

The thrilling shouts they died away
Before the night came greyly down
But closed not with the closing day
The choking sob the tortured moan

Down in a hollow sunk in shade
Where dark heath waved in secret gloom
A weary bleeding form was laid
Waiting the death that was to come

75. [O Dream, where art thou now?]

O Dream, where art thou now?
Long years have past away
Since last, from off thine angel brow
I saw the light decay—

Alas, alas for me
Thou wert so bright and fair,
I could not think thy memory
Would yield me nought but care!

The sun-beam and the storm,
The summer-eve divine,
The silent night of solemn calm,
The full moon's cloudless shine

Were once entwined with thee
But now, with weary pain—
Lost vision! 'tis enough for me—
Thou canst not shine again—

76. [Loud without the wind was roaring]

Loud without the wind was roaring
Through the waned Autumnal sky,
Drenching wet, the cold rain pouring
Spoke of stormy winters nigh.

All too like that dreary eve
Sighed within repining grief—
Sighed at first—but sighed not long
Sweet—How softly sweet it came!
Wild words of an ancient song—
Undefined, without a name—

‘It was spring, for the skylark was singing.’
Those words they awakened a spell—
They unlocked a deep fountain whose springing
Nor Absence nor Distance can quell.

In the gloom of a cloudy November
They uttered the music of May—
They kindled the perishing ember
Into fervour that could not decay

Awaken on all my dear moorlands
The wind in its glory and pride!
O call me from valleys and highlands
To walk by the hill-river's side!

It is swelled with the first snowy weather;
The rocks they are icy and hoar
And darker waves round the long heather
And the fern-leaves are sunny no more

There are no yellow-stars on the mountain,
The blue bells have long died away
From the brink of the moss-bedded fountain,
From the side of the wintery brae—

But lovelier than corn-fields all waving
In emerald and scarlet and gold
Are the slopes where the north-wind is raving
And the glens where I wandered of old—

‘It was morning; the bright sun was beaming.’
How sweetly that brought back to me
The time when nor labour nor dreaming
Broke the sleep of the happy and free

But blithely we rose as the dusk heaven
Was melting to amber and blue—
And swift were the wings to our feet given
While we traversed the meadows of dew.

For the moors, for the moors where the short grass
Like velvet beneath us should lie!
For the moors, for the moors where each high pass
Rose sunny against the clear sky!

For the moors, where the linnet was trilling
Its song on the old granite stone—
Where the lark—the wild skylark was filling
Every breast with delight like its own.

What language can utter the feeling
That rose when, in exile afar,
On the brow of a lonely hill kneeling
I saw the brown heath growing there.

It was scattered and stunted, and told me
That soon even that would be gone
It whispered, ‘The grim walls enfold me
I have bloomed in my last summer's sun’

But not the loved music whose waking
Makes the soul of the Swiss die away
Has a spell more adored and heart-breaking
Than in its half-blighted bells lay—

The spirit that bent 'neath its power
How it longed, how it burned to be free!
If I could have wept in that hour
Those tears had been heaven to me—

Well, well the sad minutes are moving
Though loaded with trouble and pain—
And sometime the loved and the loving
Shall meet on the mountains again—

77. [A little while, a little while]

A little while, a little while
The noisy crowd are barred away;
And I can sing and I can smile
A little while I've holiday!

Where wilt thou go my harassed heart?
Full many a land invites thee now;
And places near, and far apart
Have rest for thee, my weary brow—

There is a spot 'mid barren hills
Where winter howls and driving rain
But if the dreary tempest chills
There is a light that warms again

The house is old, the trees are bare
And moonless bends the misty dome
But what on earth is half so dear—
So longed for as the hearth of home?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The garden-walk with weeds o'ergrown
I love them—how I love them all!

Shall I go there? or shall I seek
Another clime, another sky.
Where tongues familiar music speak
In accents dear to memory?

Yes, as I mused, the naked room,
The flickering firelight died away
And from the midst of cheerless gloom
I passed to bright, unclouded day—

A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains circling every side—

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air
And, deepening still the dreamlike charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere—

That was the scene—I knew it well
I knew the pathways far and near
That winding o'er each billowy swell
Marked out the tracks of wandering deer

Could I have lingered but an hour
It well had paid a week of toil
But truth has banished fancy's power
I hear my dungeon bars recoil—

Even as I stood with raptured eye
Absorbed in bliss so deep and dear
My hour of rest had fleeted by
And given me back to weary care—

78. [How still, how happy! those are words]

How still, how happy! those are words
That once would scarce agree together
I loved the plashing of the surge—
The changing heaven the breezy weather,

More than smooth seas and cloudless skies
And solemn, soothing, softened airs
That in the forest woke no sighs
And from the green spray shook no tears

How still, how happy! now I feel
Where silence dwells is sweeter far
Than laughing mirth's most joyous swell
However pure its raptures are

Come sit down on this sunny stone
'Tis wintery light o'er flowerless moors—
But sit—for we are all alone
And clear expand heaven's breathless shores

I could think in the withered grass
Spring's budding wreaths we might discern
The violet's eye might shyly flash
And young leaves shoot among the fern

It is but thought—full many a night
The snow shall clothe those hills afar
And storms shall add a drearier blight
And winds shall wage a wilder war

Before the lark may herald in
Fresh foliage twined with blossoms fair
And summer days again begin
Their glory-haloed crown to wear

Yet my heart loves December's smile
As much as July's golden beam
Then let us sit and watch the while
The blue ice curdling on the stream—

79. [The blue bell is the sweetest flower]

The blue bell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care

There is a spell in purple heath
Too wildly, sadly drear
The violet has a fragrant breath
But fragrance will not cheer

The trees are bare, the sun is cold
And seldom, seldom seen—
The heavens have lost their zone of gold
The earth its robe of green

And ice upon the glancing stream
Has cast its sombre shade
And distant hills and valleys seem
In frozen mist arrayed—

The blue bell cannot charm me now
The heath has lost its bloom
The violets in the glen below
They yield no sweet perfume

But though I mourn the heather-bell
'Tis better far, away
I know how fast my tears would swell
To see it smile today

And that wood flower that hides so shy
Beneath the mossy stone
Its balmy scent and dewy eye
'Tis not for them I moan

It is the slight and stately stem
The blossom's silvery blue
The buds hid like a sapphire gem
In sheaths of emerald hue

'Tis these that breathe upon my heart
A calm and softening spell
That if it makes the tear-drop start
Has power to soothe as well

For these I weep, so long divided
Through winter's dreary day
In longing weep—but most when guided
On withered banks to stray

If chilly then the light should fall
Adown the dreary sky
And gild the dank and darkened wall
With transient brilliancy

How do I yearn, how do I pine
For the time of flowers to come
And turn me from that fading shine
To mourn the fields of home—

80. [The night was dark yet winter breathed]

The night was dark yet winter breathed
With softened sighs on Gondal's shore
And though its wind repining grieved
It chained the snow swollen streams no more

How deep into the wilderness
My horse had strayed, I cannot say
But neither morsel nor caress
Would urge him farther on the way

So loosening from his neck the rein
I set my worn companion free
And billowy hill and boundless plain
Full soon divided him from me

The sullen clouds lay all unbroken
And blackening round the horizon drear
But still they gave no certain token
Of heavy rain or tempests near

I paused confounded and distressed
Down in the heath my limbs I threw
Yet wilder as I longed for rest
More wakeful heart and eyelids grew

It was about the middle night
And under such a starless dome
When gliding from the mountain's height
I saw a shadowy spirit come

Her wavy hair on her shoulders bare
It shone like soft clouds round the moon
Her noiseless feet like melting sleet
Gleamed white a moment then were gone

‘What seek you now on this bleak moor's brow
Where wanders that form from heaven descending?’
It was thus I said as her graceful head
The spirit above my couch was bending

‘This is my home where whirlwinds blow
Where snowdrifts round my path are swelling
'Tis many a year 'tis long ago
Since I beheld another dwelling

‘When thick and fast the smothering blast
O'erwhelmed the hunter on the plain
If my cheek grew pale in its loudest gale
May I never tread the hills again

‘The shepherd had died on the mountainside
But my ready aid was near him then
I led him back o'er the hidden track
And gave him to his native glen

‘When tempests roar on the lonely shore
I light my beacon with sea-weeds dry
And it flings its fire through the darkness dire
And gladdens the sailor's hopeless eye

‘And the scattered sheep I love to keep
Their timid forms to guard from harm
I have a spell and they know it well
And I save them with a powerful charm

‘Thy own good steed on his friendless bed
A few hours since you left to die
But I knelt by his side and the saddle untied
And life returned to his glazing eye

‘And deem thou not that quite forgot
My mercy will forsake me now
I bring thee care and not Despair
Abasement but not overthrow

‘To a silent home thy foot may come
And years may follow of toilsome pain
But yet I swear by that Burning Tear
The loved shall meet on its hearth again’

81. [From our evening fireside now]

From our evening fireside now,
Merry laugh and cheerful tone,
Smiling eye and cloudless brow,
Mirth and music all are flown:

Yet the grass before the door
Grows as green in April rain;
And as blithely as of yore
Larks have poured their day-long strain.

Is it fear, or is it sorrow
Checks the stagnant stream of joy?
Do we tremble that tomorrow
May our present peace destroy?

For past misery are we weeping?
What is past can hurt no more;
And the gracious heavens are keeping
Aid for that which lies before—

One is absent, and for one
Cheerless, chill is our hearthstone—
One is absent, and for him
Cheeks are pale and eyes are dim—

Arthur, brother, Gondal's shore
Rested from the battle's roar—
Arthur, brother, we returned
Back to Desmond lost and mourned:

Thou didst purchase by thy fall
Home for us and peace for all;
Yet, how darkly dawned that day—
Dreadful was the price to pay!

Just as once, through sun and mist
I have climbed the mountain's breast
Still my gun with certain aim
Brought to earth the fluttering game:

But the very dogs repined,
Though I called with whistle shrill
Listlessly they lagged behind,
Looking backward o'er the hill—

Sorrow was not vocal there:
Mute their pain and my despair
But the joy of life was flown
He was gone, and we were lone—

So it is by morn and eve—
So it is in field and hall—
For the absent one we grieve,
One being absent saddens All—

82. Song

[King Julius left the south country]

King Julius left the south country
His banners all bravely flying
His followers went out with Jubilee
But they shall return with sighing

Loud arose the triumphal hymn
The drums were loudly rolling
Yet you might have heard in distance dim
How a passing bell was tolling

The sword so bright from battles won
With unseen rust is fretting
The evening comes before the noon
The scarce risen sun is setting

While princes hang upon his breath
And nations round are fearing
Close by his side a daggered Death
With sheathless point stands sneering

That death he took a certain aim
For Death is stony-hearted
And in the zenith of his fame
Both power and life departed—

83. Lines

[The soft unclouded blue of air]

The soft unclouded blue of air
The earth as golden-green and fair
And bright as Eden's used to be
That air and earth have rested me

Laid on the grass I lapsed away
Sank back again to childhood's day
All harsh thoughts perished memory mild
Subdued both grief and passion wild

But did the sunshine even now
That bathed his stern and swarthy brow
Oh did it wake I long to know
One whisper one sweet dream in hi[m]
One lingering joy that years ago
Had faded—lost in distance di[m]
That iron man was born like me
And he was once an ardent boy
He must have felt in infancy
The glory of a summer sky

Though storms untold his mind have tossed
He cannot utterly have lost
Remembrance of his early home
So lost that not a gleam may come

No vision of his mother's face
When she so fondly would set free
Her darling child from her embrace
To roam till eve at liberty—

Nor of his haunts nor of the flowers
His tiny hand would grateful bear
Returning from the darkening bowers
To weave into her glossy hair

I saw the light breeze kiss his cheek
His fingers 'mid the roses twined
I watched to mark one transient streak
Of pensive softness shade his mind

The open window showed around
A glowing park and glorious sky
And thick woods swelling with the sound
Of Nature's mingled harmony

Silent he sat. That stormy breast
At length, I said has deigned to rest
At length above that spirit flows
The waveless ocean of repose

Let me draw near 'twill soothe to view
His dark eyes dimmed with holy dew
Remorse even now may wake within
And half unchain his soul from sin

Perhaps this is the destined hour
When hell shall lose its fatal power
And heaven itself shall bend above
To hail the soul redeemed by love

Unmarked I gazed my idle thought
Passed with the ray whose shine it caught
One glance revealed how little care
He felt for all the beauty there

Oh crime can make the heart grow old
Sooner than years of wearing woe
Can turn the warmest bosom cold
As winter wind or polar snow

84. To the Blue Bell

Sacred watcher, wave thy bells!
Fair hill flower and woodland child!
Dear to me in deep green dells—
Dearest on the mountains wild—

Blue bell, even as all divine
I have seen my darling shine—
Blue bell, even as wan and frail
I have seen my darling fail—
Thou hast found a voice for me—
And soothing words are breathed by thee—

Thus they murmur, ‘Summer's sun
Warms me till my life is done—
Would I rather choose to die
Under winter's ruthless sky?

‘Glad I bloom and calm I fade
Weeping twilight dews my bed
Mourner, mourner dry thy tears.
Sorrow comes with lengthened years!’

85. [I am the only being whose doom]

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure—secret tears
This changeful life has slipped away
As friendless after eighteen years
As lone as on my natal day

100

There have been times I cannot hide
There have been times when this was drear
When my sad soul forgot its pride
And longed for one to love me here

But those were in the early glow
Of feelings not subdued by care
And they have died so long ago
I hardly now believe they were

First melted off the hope of youth
Then Fancy's rainbow fast withdrew
And then experience told me truth
In mortal bosoms never grew

'Twas grief enough to think mankind
All hollow servile insincere—
But worse to trust to my own mind
And find the same corruption there

86. [May flowers are opening]

May flowers are opening
And leaves unfolding free
There are bees in every blossom
And birds on every tree

The sun is gladly shining
The stream sings merrily
And I only am pining
And all is dark to me

O—cold cold is my heart
It will not cannot rise
It feels no sympathy
With those refulgent skies

101

Dead dead is my joy
I long to be at rest
I wish the damp earth covered
This desolate breast

If I were quite alone
It might not be so drear
When all hope was gone
At least I could not fear

But the glad eyes around me
Must weep as mine have done
And I must see the same gloom
Eclipse their morning sun

If heaven would rain on me
That future storm of care
So their fond hearts were free
I'd be content to bear

Alas as lightning withers
The young and aged tree
Both they and I shall fall beneath
The fate we cannot flee

87. Lines by Claudia

I did not sleep 'twas noon of day
I saw the burning sunshine fall
The long grass bending where I lay
The blue sky brooding over all

I heard the mellow hum of bees
And singing birds and sighing trees
And far away in woody dell
The Music of the Sabbath bell

102

I did not dream remembrance still
Clasped round my heart its fetters chill
But I am sure the soul is free
To leave its clay a little while
Or how in exile misery
Could I have seen my country smile

In English fields my limbs were laid
With English turf beneath my head
My spirit wandered o'er that shor[e]
Where nought but it may wander more

Yet if the soul can thus return
I need not and I will not mourn
And vainly did you drive me far
With leagues of ocean stretched between
My mortal flesh you might debar
But not the eternal fire within

My Monarch died to rule forever
A heart that can forget him never
And dear to me aye doubly dear
Thought shut within the silent tomb
His name shall be for whom I bear
This long sustained and hopeless doom

And brighter in the hour of woe
Than in the blaze of victory's pride
That glory shedding star shall glow
For which we fought and bled and died

88. [I know not how it falls on me]

I know not how it falls on me
This summer evening, hushed and lone
Yet the faint wind comes soothingly
With something of an olden tone

103

Forgive me if I've shunned so long
Your gentle greeting earth and air
But sorrow withers even the strong
And who can fight against despair

89. Written on Returning to the P. of I. on the 10th of January 1827

The busy day has hurried by
And hearts greet kindred hearts once more
And swift the evening hours should fly
But what turns every gleaming eye
So often to the door?

And then so quick away—and why
Does sudden silence chill the room?
And laughter sink into a sigh—
And merry words to whispers die—
And gladness change to gloom?

O we are listening for a sound
We know shall ne'er be heard again
Sweet voices in the halls resound;
Fair forms, fond faces gather round
But all in vain—in vain!

Their feet shall never waken more
The echoes in these galleries wide,
Nor dare the snow on the mountain's brow,
Nor skim the river's frozen flow,
Nor wander down its side—

They who have been our life—our soul—
Through summer-youth, from childhood's spring—
Who bound us in one vigorous whole
To stand 'gainst Tyranny's control
For ever triumphing—

104

Who bore the brunt of battle's fray
The first to fight, the last to fall
Whose mighty minds—with kindred ray
Still led the van in Glory's way—
The idol chiefs of all—

They, they are gone! not for a while
As golden suns at night decline
And even in death our grief beguile
Foretelling, with a rose-red smile
How bright the morn will shine—

No these dark towers are lone and lorn;
This very crowd is vacancy;
And we must watch and wait and mourn
And half look out for their return;
And think their forms we see—

And fancy music in our ear
Such as their lips could only pour
And think we feel their presence near
And start to find they are not here
And never shall be more!

90. [Month after month year after year]

Month after month year after year
My harp has poured a dreary strain—
At length a livelier note shall cheer
And pleasure tune its chords again

What though the stars and fair moonlight
Are quenched in morning dull and grey
They were but tokens of the night
And this my soul is day

105

91. [And now the house dog stretched once more]

And now the house dog stretched once more
His limbs upon the glowing floor
The children half resumed their play
Though from the warm hearth scared away
The goodwife left her spinning wheel
And spread with smiles the evening meal
The Shepherd placed a seat and pressed
To their poor fare his unknown guest
And he unclasped his mantle now
And raised the covering from his brow
Said ‘Voyagers by land and sea
Were seldom feasted daintily’
And checked his host by adding stern
He'd no refinement to unlearn
A silence settled on the room
The cheerful welcome sank to gloom
But not those words though cold and high
So froze their hospitable joy
No—there was something in his face
Some nameless thing they could not trace
And something in his voice's tone
Which turned their blood as chill as stone
The ringlets of his long black hair
Fell o'er a cheek most ghastly fair
Youthful he seemed—but worn as they
Who spend too soon their youthful day
When his glance drooped 'twas hard to quell
Unbidden feelings sudden swell
And pity scarce her tears could hide
So sweet that brow with all its pride
But when upraised his eye would dart
An icy shudder through the heart
Compassion changed to horror then
And fear to meet that gaze again
It was not hatred's tiger glare
Nor the wild anguish of despair

106

It was not useless misery
Which mocks at friendship's sympathy
No—lightning all unearthly shone
Deep in that dark eye's circling zone
Such withering lightning as we deem
None but a spectre's look may beam
And glad they were when he turned away
And wrapped him in his mantle grey
Leant down his head upon his arm
And veiled from view their basilisk charm

92. A Farewell to Alexandria

I've seen this dell in July's shine
As lovely as an angel's dream;
Above, heaven's depth of blue divine;
Around, the evening's golden beam—

I've seen the purple heather-bell
Look out by many a storm-worn stone
And oh, I've known such music swell,
Such wild notes wake these passes lone—

So soft, yet so intensely felt,
So low, yet so distinctly heard,
My breath would pause, my eyes would melt
And my tears dew the green heath-sward—

I'd linger here a summer day
Nor care how fast the hours flew by
Nor mark the sun's departing ray
Smile sadly glorious from the sky—

Then, then I might have laid thee down
And deemed thy sleep would gentle be
I might have left thee, darling one
And thought thy God was guarding thee!

107

But now, there is no wandering glow
No gleam to say that God is nigh:
And coldly spreads thy couch of snow
And harshly sounds thy lullaby.

Forests of heather dark and long
Wave their brown branching arms above
And they must soothe thee with their song
And they must shield my child of love!

Alas the flakes are heavily falling
They cover fast each guardian crest;
And chilly white their shroud is palling
Thy frozen limbs and freezing breast

Wakes up the storm more madly wild
The mountain drifts are tossed on high—
Farewell unblessed, unfriended child,
I cannot bear to watch thee die!

93. [Come hither child—who gifted thee]

Come hither child—who gifted thee
With power to touch that string so well?
How daredst thou rouse up thoughts in me
Thoughts that I would—but cannot quell?

Nay chide not lady long ago
I heard those notes in Ula's hall
And had I known they'd waken woe
I'd weep their music to recall

But thus it was one festal night
When I was hardly six years old
I stole away from crowds and light
And sought a chamber dark and cold

108

I had no one to love me there
I knew no comrade and no friend
And so I went to sorrow where
Heaven only heaven saw me bend

Loud blew the wind 'twas sad to stay
From all that splendour barred away
I imaged in the lonely room
A thousand forms of fearful gloom

And with my wet eyes raised on high
I prayed to God that I might die
Suddenly in that silence drear
A sound of music reached my ear

And then a note I hear it yet
So full of soul so deeply sweet
I thought that Gabriel's self had come
To take me to my father's home

Three times it rose that seraph-strain
Then died nor lived ever again
But still the words and still the tone
Swell round my heart when all alone

94. [Shed no tears o'er that tomb]

Shed no tears o'er that tomb
For there are Angels weeping
Mourn not him whose doom
Heaven itself is mourning
Look how in sable gloom
The clouds are earthward sweeping
And earth receives them home
Even darker clouds returning

109

Is it when good men die
That sorrow wakes above?
Grieve saints when other spirits fly
To swell their choir of love?

Ah no with louder sound—
The golden harp-strings quiver
When good men gain the happy ground
Where they must dwell forever

But he who slumbers there:
His bark will strive no more
Across the waters of despair
To reach that glorious shore

The time of grace is past
And mercy scorned and tried
Forsakes to utter wrath at last
The soul so steeled by pride

That wrath will never spare
Will never pity know
Will mock its victim's maddened prayer
Will triumph in his woe

Shut from his Maker's smile
The accursed man shall be
Compassion reigns a little while
Revenge eternally—

95. [Mild the mist upon the hill]

Mild the mist upon the hill
Telling not of storms tomorrow
No the day has wept its fill
Spent its store of silent sorrow

110

Oh I'm gone back to the days of youth
I am a child once more
And 'neath my father's sheltering roof
And near the old hall door

I watch this cloudy evening fall
After a day of rain
Blue mists sweet mists of summer pall
The horizon's mountain chain

The damp stands in the long green grass
As thick as morning's tears
And dreamy scents of fragrance pass
That breathe of other years

96. [How long will you remain? The midnight hour]

How long will you remain? The midnight hour
Has tolled the last note from [the] minster tower
Come come the fire is dead the lamp burns low
Your eyelids droop a weight is on your brow
Your cold hands hardly hold the useless pen
Come morn will give recovered strength again

No let me linger leave me let me be
A little longer in this reverie
I'm happy now and would you tear away
My blissful dream that never comes with day
A vision dear though false for well my mind
Knows what a bitter waking waits behind

Can there be pleasure in this shadowy room
With windows yawning on intenser gloom
And such a dreary wind so bleakly sweeping
Round walls where only you are vigil keeping
Besides your face has not a sign of joy
And more than tearful sorrow fills your eye
Look on those woods look on that heaven lorn
And think how changed they'll be tomorrow morn

111

The dome of heaven expanding bright and blue
The leaves the green grass sprinkled thick with dew
And wet mists rising on the river's breast
And wild birds bursting from their songless nest
And your own children's merry voices chasing
The fancies grief not pleasure has been tracing

Aye speak of these—but can you tell me why
Day breathes such beauty over earth and sky
And waking sounds revive restore again
[Dull] hearts that all night long have throbbed in pain

Is it not that the sunshine and the wind
Lure from its self the mourner's woe worn mind
And all the joyous music breathing by
And all the splendour of that cloudless sky

Regive him shadowy gleams of infancy
And draw his tired gaze from futurity

97. [The starry night shall tidings bring]

The starry night shall tidings bring
Go out upon the breezy moor
Watch for a bird with sable wing
And beak and talons dripping gore

Look not around look not beneath
But mutely trace its airy way
Mark where it lights upon the heath
Then wanderer kneel thee down and pray

What fortune may await thee there
I will not and I dare not tell
But Heaven is moved by fervent prayer
And God is mercy—fare thee well!

112

98. [It is not pride it is not shame]

It is not pride it is not shame
That makes her leave the gorgeous hall
And though neglect her heart might tame
She mourns not for her sudden fall

'Tis true she stands among the crowd
An unmarked and an unloved child
While each young comrade blithe and proud
Glides through the maze of pleasure wild

And all do homage to their will
And all seem glad their voice to hear
She heeds not that but hardly still
Her eye can hold the quivering tear

What made her weep what made her glide
Out to the park this dreary day
And cast her jewelled chains aside
And seek a rough and lonely way

And down beneath a cedar's shade
On the wet grass regardless lie
With nothing but its gloomy head
Between her and the showery sky

I saw her stand in the gallery long
Watching the little children there
As they were playing the pillars among
And bounding down the marble stair

99. [It was night and on the mountains]

It was night and on the mountains
Fathoms deep the snow drifts lay
Streams and waterfalls and fountains
Down in darkness stole away

113

Long ago the hopeless peasant
Left his sheep all buried there
Sheep that through the summer pleasant
He had watched with fondest care

Now no more a cheerful ranger
Following pathways known of yore
Sad he stood a wildered stranger
On his own unbounded moor

100. [Fair sinks the summer evening now]

Fair sinks the summer evening now
In softened glory round my home;
The sky upon its holy brow
Wears not a cloud that speaks of gloom.

The old tower, shrined in golden light,
Looks down on the descending sun—
So gently evening blends with night
You scarce can say that day is done—

And this is just the joyous hour
When we were wont to burst away,
To 'scape from labour's tyrant power
And cheerfully go out to play—

Then why is all so sad and lone?
No merry foot-step on the stair—
No laugh—no heart-awaking tone
But voiceless silence everywhere—

I've wandered round our garden-ground
And still it seemed at every turn
That I should greet approaching feet
And words upon the breezes borne

In vain—they will not come today
And morning's beam will rise as drear

114

Then tell me—are they gone for aye
Our sun blinks through the mists of care?

Ah no, reproving Hope doth say
Departed joys 'tis fond to mourn
When every storm that hides their ray
Prepares a more divine return—

101. [Alcona in its changing mood]

Alcona in its changing mood
My soul will sometimes overfly
The long long years of solitude
That 'twixt our time of meeting lie

Hope and despair in turns arise
This doubting dreading heart to move
And now 'mid smiles and bitter sighs
Tell how I fear tell how I love

And now I say ‘In Areon Hall’—
(Alas that such a dream should come
When well I know whate'er befall
That Areon is no more my home.)

Yet let me say ‘In Areon Hall’—
The first faint red of morning shines
And one right gladly to its call
The restless breath of grief resigns

Her faded eye, her pallid face
Would woo the soft awaking wind
All earth is breathing of the peace
She long has sought but cannot find

How sweet it is to watch the mist
From that bright silent lake ascend
And high o'er wood and mountain crest
With heaven's grey clouds as greyly blend

115

How sweet it is to mark those clouds
Break brightly in the rising day
To see the sober veil that shrouds
This summer morning melt away

O sweet to some but not to her
Unm[ark]dst once at nature's shrine
She now kneels down a worshipper
A mad adorer, love, to thine

The time is come when hope that long
Revived and sank at length [is o'er]
When faith in him however strong
Dare prompt her to believe no more

The tears which day by day o'erflowed
Their heart deep source begin to freeze
And as she gazes on the road
That glances through those spreading trees

No throbbing flutter checks her breath
To mark a horseman hastening by
Her haggard brow is calm as death
And cold like death her dreary eye

102. Song

[O between distress and pleasure]

O between distress and pleasure
Fond affection cannot be
Wretched hearts in vain would treasure
Friendship's joys when others flee

Well I know thine eye would never
Smile while mine grieved willingly
Yet I know thine eye forever
Could not weep in sympathy

116

Let us part the time is over
When I thought and felt like thee
I will be an Ocean rover
I will sail the desert sea

Isles there are beyond its billow
Lands where woe may wander free
And beloved thy midnight pillow
Will be soft unwatched by me

Not on each returning morrow
When thy heart bounds ardently
Need'st thou then dissemble sorrow
Marking my despondency

Day by day some dreary token
Will forsake thy memory
Till at last all old links broken
I shall be a dream to thee

103. [There was a time when my cheek burned]

There was a time when my cheek burned
To give such scornful fiends the lie
Ungoverned nature madly spurned
The law that bade it not defy
O in the days of ardent youth
I would have given my life for truth

For truth, for right, for liberty
I would have gladly, freely died
And now I calmly hear and see
The vain man smile the fool deride
Though not because my heart is tame
Though not for fear though not for shame

117

My soul still chafes at every tone
Of selfish and self-blinded error
My breast still braves the world alone
Steeled as it ever was to terror
Only I know however I frown
The same world will go rolling on

104. [The wind I hear it sighing]

The wind I hear it sighing
With Autumn's saddest sound—
Withered leaves as thick are lying
As spring-flowers on the ground—

This dark night has won me
To wander far away—
Old feelings gather fast upon me
Like vultures round their prey—

Kind were they once, and cherished
But cold and cheerless now—
I would their lingering shades had perished
When their light left my brow

'Tis like old age pretending
The softness of a child,
My altered, hardened spirit bending
To meet their fancies wild

Yet could I with past pleasures,
Past woe's oblivion buy—
That by the death of my dearest treasures
My deadliest pains might die.

O then another daybreak
Might haply dawn above—
Another summer gild my cheek,
My soul, another love—

118

106. [The wind was rough which tore]

The wind was rough which tore
That leaf from its parent tree
The fate was cruel which bore
The withering corpse to me

We wander on we have no rest
It is a dreary way

What shadow is it
That ever moves before [my] eyes
It has a brow of ghostly whiteness

107. [That wind I used to hear it swelling]

That wind I used to hear it swelling
With joy divinely deep
You might have seen my hot tears welling
But rapture made me weep

I used to love on winter nights
To lie and dream alone
Of all the hopes and real delights
My early years had known

And oh above the rest of those
That coming time should [bear]
Like heaven's own glorious stars they rose
Still beaming bright and fair

119

108. [Come, walk with me]

Come, walk with me,
There's only thee
To bless my spirit now—
We used to love on winter nights
To wander through the snow;
Can we not woo back old delights?
The clouds rush dark and wild
They fleck with shade our mountain heights
The same as long ago
And on the horizon rest at last
In looming masses piled;
While moonbeams flash and fly so fast
We scarce can say they smiled—

Come walk with me, come walk with me;
We were not once so few
But Death has stolen our company
As sunshine steals the dew—
He took them one by one and we
Are left the only two;
So closer would my feelings twine
Because they have no stay but thine—

‘Nay call me not—it may not be
Is human love so true?
Can Friendship's flower droop on for years
And then revive anew?
No, though the soil be wet with tears,
How fair soe'er it grew
The vital sap once perished
Will never flow again
And surer than that dwelling dread,
The narrow dungeon of the dead
Time parts the hearts of men—’

120

109. [Heaven's glory shone where he was laid]

Heaven's glory shone where he was laid
In life's decline
I turned me from that young saint's bed
To gaze on thine—

It was a summer day that saw
His spirit's flight
Thine parted in a time of awe
A winter-night

110. [Upon her soothing breast]

Upon her soothing breast
She lulled her little child
A winter sunset in the west
A dreary glory smiled

111. [I gazed within thine earnest eyes]

I gazed within thine earnest eyes
And read the sorrow brooding there
[I saw] thy young breast heave with sighs
And envied such despair

Go to the grave in youth's [first] woe
That doom was written long ago

121

112. Written in the Gaaldine Prison Caves to A. G. A.

Thy sun is near meridian height
And my sun sinks in endless night
But if that night bring only sleep
Then I shall rest, while thou wilt weep.

And say not, that my early tomb
Will give me to a darker doom—
Shall these long, agonizing years
Be punished by eternal tears?

No, that I feel can never be;
A God of hate could hardly bear
To watch, through all eternity,
His own creation's dread despair!

The pangs that wring my mortal breast
Must claim from Justice, lasting rest:
Enough, that this departing breath
Will pass in anguish worse than death.

If I have sinned, long, long ago
That sin was purified by woe—
I've suffered on through night and day;
I've trod a dark and frightful way.

Earth's wilderness was round me spread
Heaven's tempests beat my naked head—
I did not kneel: in vain would prayer
Have sought one gleam of mercy there!

How could I ask for pitying love
When that grim concave frowned above
Hoarding its lightnings to destroy
My only and my priceless joy?

They struck and long may Eden shine
Ere I would call its glories mine
All Heaven's undreamt felicity
Could never blot the past from me—

122

No, years may cloud and death may sever
But what is done is done for ever—
And thou false friend, and treacherous guide,
Go sate thy cruel heart with pride—

Go, load my memory with shame;
Speak but to curse my hated name;
My tortured limbs in dungeons bind
And spare my life to kill my mind—

Leave me in chains and darkness now
And when my very soul is worn;
When reason's light has left my brow
And madness cannot feel thy scorn;

Then come again—thou wilt not shrink;
I know thy soul is free from fear
The last full cup of triumph drink,
Before the blank of death be there—

Thy raving, dying victim see;
Lost, cursed, degraded—all for thee!
Gaze on the wretch—recall to mind
His golden days left long behind.

Does memory sleep in Lethean rest?
Or wakes its whisper in thy breast?
O memory, wake! Let scenes return
That even her haughty heart must mourn!

Reveal, where o'er a lone green wood
The moon of summer pours
Far down from heaven, its silver flood
On deep Elderno's shores—

There, lingering in the wild embrace
Youth's warm affections gave
She sits, and fondly seems to trace
His features in the wave—

123

And while, on that reflected face
Her eyes intently dwell:
‘Fernando, sing tonight,’ she says,
‘The lays I love so well.’

He smiles and sings, though every air
Betrays the faith of yesterday:
His soul is glad to cast for her
Virtue and faith and Heaven away.

Well, thou hast paid me back my love!
But, if there be a God above
Whose arm is strong, whose word is true
This hell shall wring thy spirit too!

113. [Far, far away is mirth withdrawn]

Far, far away is mirth withdrawn;
'Tis three long hours before the morn
And I watch lonely, drearily—
So come thou shade commune with me

Deserted one! thy corpse lies cold
And mingled with a foreign mould—
Year after year the grass grows green
Above the dust where thou hast been.

I will not name thy blighted name
Tarnished by unforgotten shame
Though not because my bosom torn
Joins the mad world in all its scorn—

Thy phantom face is dark with woe
Tears have left ghastly traces there,
Those ceaseless tears! I wish their flow
Could quench thy wild despair.

124

They deluge my heart like the rain
On cursed Gomorrah's howling plain—
Yet when I hear thy foes deride
I must cling closely to thy side—

Our mutual foes—they will not rest
From trampling on thy buried breast—
Glutting their hatred with the doom
They picture thine, beyond the tomb—

But God is not like human kind
Man cannot read the Almighty mind
Vengeance will never torture thee
Nor hunt thy soul eternally

Then do not in this night of grief
This time of overwhelming fear
O do not think that God can leave
Forget, forsake, refuse to hear!—

What have I dreamt? He lies asleep
With whom my heart would vainly weep
He rests—and I endure the woe
That left his spirit long ago—

114. [It is too late to call thee now—]

It is too late to call thee now—
I will not nurse that dream again
For every joy that lit my brow
Would bring its after-storm of pain—

Besides the mist is half withdrawn,
The barren mountain-side lies bare
And sunshine and awaking morn
Paint no more golden visions there—

125

Yet ever in my grateful breast
Thy darling shade shall cherished be
For God alone doth know how blest
My early years have been in thee!

116. [If grief for grief can touch thee]

If grief for grief can touch thee,
If answering woe for woe,
If any ruth can melt thee
Come to me now!

I cannot be more lonely,
More drear I cannot be!
My worn heart throbs so wildly
'Twill break for thee—

And when the world despises—
When heaven repels my prayer—
Will not mine angel comfort?
Mine idol hear?

Yes by the tears I've poured,
By all my hours of pain
O I shall surely win thee
Beloved, again!

117. ['Tis moonlight summer moonlight]

'Tis moonlight summer moonlight
All soft and still and fair
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere

126

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid
Green grass and dew steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head

118. The Night-Wind

In summer's mellow midnight
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window
And rosetrees wet with dew

I sat in silent musing—
The soft wind waved my hair
It told me Heaven was glorious
And sleeping Earth was fair—

I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me
But still it whispered lowly
‘How dark the woods will be!—

‘The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem’

I said, ‘Go gentle singer,
Thy wooing voice is kind
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind—

127

‘Play with the scented flower,
The young tree's supple bough—
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow’

The Wanderer would not leave me
Its kiss grew warmer still—
‘O come,’ it sighed so sweetly
‘I'll win thee 'gainst thy will—

‘Have we not been from childhood friends?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou hast loved the night
Whose silence wakes my song?

‘And when thy heart is laid at rest
Beneath the church-yard stone
I shall have time enough to mourn
And thou to be alone’—

119. [Companions, all day long we've stood]

Companions, all day long we've stood
The wild winds restless blowing
All day we've watched the darkened flood
Around our vessel flowing

Sunshine has never smiled since morn
And clouds have gathered drear
And heavier hearts would feel forlorn
And weaker minds would fear

But look in each young shipmate's eyes
Lit by the evening flame
And see how little stormy skies
Our joyous blood can tame

128

No glance the same expression wears
No lip the same soft smile
Yet kindness warms and courage cheers
Nerves every breast the while

It is the hour of dreaming now
The red fire brightly gleams
And sweetest in a red fire's glow
The hour of dreaming seems

I may not trace the thoughts of all
But some I read as well
As I can hear the ocean's fall
And sullen surging swell

Edmund's swift soul is gone before
It threads a forest wide
Whose towers are bending to the shore
And gazing on the tide

And one is there—I know the voice
The thrilling stirring tone
That makes his bounding pulse rejoice
Yet makes not his alone

Mine own hand longs to clasp her hand
Mine eye to greet her eye
Win white sails, win Zedora's strand
And Ula's Eden sky—

Mary and Flora oft their gaze
Is clouded pensively
And what that earnest aspect says
Is all revealed to me

'Tis but two years or little more
Since first they dared that main
And such a night may well restore
That first time back again

129

The smothered sigh the lingering late
The longed for dreaded hour
The parting at the moss-grown gate
The last look on the tower

I know they think of these and then
The evening's gathering gloom
And they alone with foreign men
To guard their cabin room

120. [And like myself lone wholly lone]

And like myself lone wholly lone
It sees the day's long sunshine glow
And like myself it makes its moan
In unexhausted woe

Give we the hills our equal prayer
Earth's breezy hills and heaven's blue sea
We ask for nothing further here
But our own hearts and liberty

Ah could my hand unlock its chain
How gladly would I watch it soar
And ne'er regret and ne'er complain
To see its shining eyes no more

But let me think that if today
It pines in cold captivity
Tomorrow both shall soar away
Eternally entirely Free

130

122. [Shall Earth no more inspire thee]

Shall Earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee
Shall Nature cease to bow?

Thy mind is ever moving
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving—
Come back and dwell with me—

I know my mountain breezes
Enchant and soothe thee still—
I know my sunshine pleases
Despite thy wayward will—

When day with evening blending
Sinks from the summer sky,
I've seen thy spirit bending
In fond idolatry—

I've watched thee every hour—
I know my mighty sway—
I know my magic power
To drive thy griefs away—

Few hearts to mortals given
On earth so wildly pine
Yet none would ask a Heaven
More like this Earth than thine—

Then let my winds caress thee—
Thy comrade let me be—
Since nought beside can bless thee
Return and dwell with me—

131

123. [Aye there it is! It wakes tonight]

Aye there it is! It wakes tonight
Sweet thoughts that will not die
And feeling's fires flash all as bright
As in the years gone by!—

And I can tell by thine altered cheek
And by thy kindled gaze
And by the words thou scarce dost speak,
How wildly fancy plays—

Yes I could swear that glorious wind
Has swept the world aside
Has dashed its memory from thy mind
Like foam-bells from the tide—

And thou art now a spirit pouring
Thy presence into all—
The essence of the Tempest's roaring
And of the Tempest's fall—

A universal influence
From Thine own influence free—
A principle of life intense
Lost to mortality—

Thus truly when that breast is cold
Thy prisoned soul shall rise
The dungeon mingle with the mould—
The captive with the skies—

124. [I see around me tombstones grey]

I see around me tombstones grey
Stretching their shadow far away.
Beneath the turf my footsteps tread
Lie low and lone the silent dead—

132

Beneath the turf—beneath the mould—
Forever dark, forever cold—
And my eyes cannot hold the tears
That memory hoards from vanished years
For Time and Death and Mortal pain
Give wounds that will not heal again—
Let me remember half the woe
I've seen and heard and felt below
And heaven itself—so pure and blest
Could never give my spirit rest—
Sweet land of light! thy children fair
Know nought akin to our despair—
Nor have they felt, nor can they tell
What tenants haunt each mortal cell
What gloomy guests we hold within—
Torments and madness, tears and sin!
Well—may they live in ecstasy
Their long eternity of joy;
At least we would not bring them down
With us to weep, with us to groan,
No—Earth would wish no other sphere
To taste her cup of sufferings drear;
She turns from Heaven a careless eye
And only mourns that we must die!
Ah mother, what shall comfort thee
In all this boundless misery?
To cheer our eager eyes a while
We see thee smile, how fondly smile!
But who reads not through that tender glow
Thy deep, unutterable woe?
Indeed no dazzling land above
Can cheat thee of thy children's love—
We all in life's departing shine
Our last dear longings blend with thine;
And struggle still, and strive to trace
With clouded gaze thy darling face
We would not leave our native home
For any world beyond the Tomb
No—rather on thy kindly breast

133

Let us be laid in lasting rest
Or waken but to share with thee
A mutual immortality—

125. Geraldine

'Twas night, her comrades gathered all
Within their city's rocky wall;
When flowers were closed and day was o'er
Their joyous hearts awoke the more

But lonely in her distant cave
She heard the river's restless wave
Chafing its banks with dreamy flow
Music for mirth, and wail for woe—

Palm trees and cedars towering high
Deepened the gloom of evening's sky
And thick did raven ringlets veil
Her forehead, drooped like lily pale

Yet I could hear my lady sing;
I knew she did not mourn,
For never yet from sorrow's spring
Such witching notes were born

Thus poured she in that cavern wild
The voice of feelings warm
As, bending o'er her beauteous child
She clasped its sleeping form—

‘Why sank so soon the summer sun
From our Zedora's skies?
I was not tired, my darling one,
Of gazing in thine eyes—

‘Methought the heaven whence thou hast come
Was lingering there awhile
And Earth seemed such an alien home
They did not dare to smile.

134

‘Methought each moment something strange
Within their circles shone
And yet, through every magic change
They were Brenzaida's own.

‘Methought—what thought I not, sweet love?
My whole heart centred there;
I breathed not but to send above
One gush of ardent prayer.

‘Bless it, my gracious God, I cried,
Preserve thy mortal shrine
For thine own sake, be thou its guide
And keep it still divine!

‘Say, sin shall never blanch that cheek
Nor suffering charge that brow
Speak, in thy mercy maker, speak
And seal it safe from woe!

‘Why did I doubt? In God's control
Our mutual fates remain
And pure as now, my angel's soul
Must go to heaven again!’

The revellers in the city slept
My lady, in her woodland bed;
I, watching o'er her slumber wept
As one who mourns the dead!

126. Rosina

Weeks of wild delirium past—
Weeks of fevered pain,
Rest from suffering comes at last—
Reason dawns again—

135

It was a pleasant April day
Declining to the afternoon
Sunshine upon her pillow lay
As warm as middle June.

It told her how unconsciously
Early spring had hurried by
‘Ah Time has not delayed for me!’
She murmured with a sigh.

‘Angora's hills have heard their tread
The crimson flag is planted there—
Elderno's waves are rolling red,
While I lie fettered here?

‘Nay, rather, Gondal's shaken throne
Is now secure and free;
And my King Julius reigns alone,
Debtless, alas! to me!’

Loud was the sudden gush of woe
From those who watched around;
Rosina turned, and sought to know
Why burst that boding sound.

‘What then, my dreams are false,’ she said
‘Come maidens, answer me
Has Almedore in battle fled?
Have slaves subdued the free?

‘I know it all, he could not bear
To leave me dying far away—
He fondly, madly lingered here
And we have lost the day!

‘But check those coward sobs, and bring
My robes and smooth my tangled hair:
A noble victory you shall sing
For every hour's despair!

136

‘When will he come? 'Twill soon be night—
He'll come when evening falls—
Oh I shall weary for the light
To leave my lonely halls!’

She turned her pallid face aside
As she would seek repose;
But dark Ambition's thwarted pride
Forbade her lids to close—

And still on all who waited by
Oppressive mystery hung;
And swollen with grief was every eye
And chained was every tongue.

They whispered nought, but, ‘Lady, sleep,
Dear Lady, slumber now!
Had we not bitter cause to weep
While you were laid so low?

‘And Hope can hardly deck the cheek
With sudden signs of cheer
When it has worn through many a week
The stamp of anguish drear’—

Fierce grew Rosina's gloomy gaze;
She cried, ‘Dissemblers, own,
Exina's arms in victory blaze
Brenzaida's crest is down’

‘Well, since it must be told, Lady,
Brenzaida's crest is down
Brenzaida's sun is set, Lady,
His empire overthrown!

‘He died beneath this palace dome—
True hearts on every side—
Among his guards, within his home
Our glorious monarch died

137

‘I saw him fall, I saw the gore
From his heart's fountain swell
And mingling on the marble floor
His murderer's life-blood fell—

‘And now, 'mid northern mountains lone
His desert grave is made;
And, Lady, of your love, alone
Remains a mortal shade!’

127. A. S. to G. S.

I do not weep, I would not weep;
Our Mother needs no tears:
Dry thine eyes too, 'tis vain to keep
This causeless grief for years

What though her brow be changed and cold,
Her sweet eyes closed for ever?
What though the stone—the darksome mould
Our mortal bodies sever?

What though her hand smooth ne'er again
Those silken locks of thine—
Nor through long hours of future pain
Her kind face o'er thee shine?

Remember still she is not dead
She sees us Gerald now
Laid where her angel spirit fled
'Mid heath and frozen snow

And from that world of heavenly light
Will she not always bend
To guide us in our lifetime's night
And guard us to the end?

138

Thou know'st she will, and well may'st mourn
That we are left below
But not that she can ne'er return
To share our earthly woe—

128. H. A. and A. S.

In the same place, when Nature wore
The same celestial glow;
I'm sure I've seen those forms before
But many springs ago;

And only he had locks of light
And she had raven hair,
While now, his curls are dark as night
And hers, as morning fair.

Besides, I've dreamt of tears whose traces
Will never more depart
Of agony that fast effaces
The verdure of the heart—

I dreamt one sunny day like this
In this peerless month of May
I saw her give the unanswered kiss
As his spirit passed away:

Those young eyes that so sweetly shine
Then looked their last adieu
And pale Death changed that cheek divine
To his unchanging hue

And earth was cast above the breast
That beats so warm and free
Where her soft ringlets lightly rest
And move responsively

139

Then she, upon the covered grave—
The grass grown grave, did lie—
A tomb not girt by Gondal's wave
Nor arched by Gondal's sky.

The sod was sparkling bright with dew
But brighter still with tears
That welled from mortal grief, I knew
Which never heals with years—

And if he came not for her woe
He would not now return;
He would not leave his sleep below
When she had ceased to mourn—

O Innocence, that cannot live
With heart-wrung anguish long
Dear childhood's Innocence, forgive,
For I have done thee wrong!

The bright rosebuds, those hawthorns shroud
Within their perfumed bower
Have never closed beneath a cloud
Nor bent before a shower—

Had darkness once obscured their sun
Or kind dew turned to rain
No storm-cleared sky that ever shone
Could win such bliss again—

129. Written in Aspin Castle

How do I love on summer nights
To sit within this Norman door
Whose sombre portal hides the lights
Thickening above me evermore!

140

How do I love to hear the flow
Of Aspin's water murmuring low
And hours long listen to the breeze
That sighs in Rockden's waving trees

Tonight, there is no wind to wake
One ripple on the lonely lake—
Tonight the clouds subdued and grey
Starlight and moonlight shut away

'Tis calm and still and almost drear
So utter is the solitude;
But still I love to linger here
And form my mood to nature's mood—

There's a wild walk beneath the rocks
Following the bend of Aspin's side
'Tis worn by feet of mountain-flocks
That wander down to drink the tide

Never by cliff and gnarled tree
Wound fairy path so sweet to me
Yet of the native shepherds none
In open day and cheerful sun
Will tread its labyrinths alone

Far less when evening's pensive hour
Hushes the bird and shuts the flower
And gives to Fancy magic power
O'er each familiar tone.

For round their hearths they'll tell the tale
And every listener swears it true
How wanders there a phantom pale
With spirit-eyes of dreamy blue—

It always walks with head declined
Its long curls move not in the wind
Its face is fair—divinely fair;

141

But brooding on that angel brow
Rests such a shade of deep despair
As nought divine could ever know

How oft in twilight lingering lone
I've stood to watch that phantom rise
And seen in mist and moonlit stone
Its gleaming hair and solemn eyes

The ancient men in secret say
'Tis the first chief of Aspin grey
That haunts his feudal home

But why, around that alien grave
Three thousand miles beyond the wave—
Where his exiled ashes lie
Under the cope of England's sky—
Doth he not rather roam?

I've seen his picture in the hall;
It hangs upon an eastern wall
And often when the sun declines
That pictures like an angel shines—

And when the moonbeam chill and blue
Streams the spectral windows through
That picture's like a spectre too—

The hall is full of portraits rare;
Beauty and mystery mingle there—
At his right hand an infant fair
Looks from its golden frame—

And just like his its ringlets bright
Its large dark eye of shadowy light
Its cheek's pure hue, its forehead white
And like its noble name—

Daughter divine! and could his gaze
Fall coldly on thy peerless face?
And did he never smile to see
Himself restored to infancy?

142

Never part back that golden flow
Of curls, and kiss that pearly brow
And feel no other earthly bliss
Was equal to that parent's kiss?

No; turn towards the western side
There stands Sidonia's deity!
In all her glory, all her pride!
And truly like a god she seems
Some god of wild enthusiast's dreams
And this is she for whom he died!
For whom his spirit unforgiven,
Wanders unsheltered shut from heaven
An outcast for eternity—

Those eyes are dust—those lips are clay—
That form is mouldered all away
Nor thought, nor sense, nor pulse, nor breath
The whole devoured and lost in death!

There is no worm, however mean,
That living, is not nobler now
Than she—Lord Alfred's idol queen
So loved—so worshipped long ago—

O come away! the Norman door
Is silvered with a sudden shine—
Come leave these dreams o'er things of yore
And turn to Nature's face divine—

O'er wood and wold, o'er flood and fell
O'er flashing lake and gleaming dell
The harvest moon looks down

And when heaven smiles with love and light
And earth looks back so dazzling bright
In such a scene, on such a night
Earth's children should not frown—

143

131. On the Fall of Zalona

All blue and bright, in glorious light
The morn comes marching on
And now Zalona's steeples white
Glow golden in the sun—

This day might be a festal day;
The streets are crowded all,
And emerald flags stream broad and gay
From turret, tower and wall;

And hark! how music, evermore
Is sounding in the sky:
The deep bells boom—the cannon roar,
The trumpets sound on high—

The deep bells boom, the deep bells clash
Upon the reeling air:
The cannon, with unceasing crash
Make answer far and near—

What do those brazen tongues proclaim?
What joyous fête begun—
What offering to our country's fame—
What noble victory won?

Go, ask that solitary sire
Laid in his house alone;
His silent hearth without a fire—
His sons and daughters gone—

Go, ask those children, in the street
Beside their mother's door;
Waiting to hear the lingering feet
That they shall hear no more.

144

Ask those pale soldiers round the gates
With famine-kindled eye—
They'll say, ‘Zalona celebrates
The day that she must die!’

The charger, by his manger tied
Has rested many a day;
Yet ere the spur have touched his side,
Behold, he sinks away!

And hungry dogs, with wolf-like cry
Unburied corpses tear,
While their gaunt masters gaze and sigh
And scarce the feast forbear—

Now, look down from Zalona's wall—
There war the unwearied foe:
If ranks before our cannon fall,
New ranks, forever, grow—

And many a week, unbroken thus,
Their troops, our ramparts hem;
And for each man that fights for us
A hundred fight for them!

Courage and Right and spotless Truth
Were pitched 'gainst traitorous crime
We offered all—our age, our youth—
Our brave men in their prime—

And all have failed! the fervent prayers,
The trust in heavenly aid,
Valour and faith and sealed tears
That would not mourn the dead—

Lips, that did breathe no murmuring word;
Hearts, that did ne'er complain
Though vengeance held a sheathed sword
And martyrs bled in vain—

145

Alas, alas, the Myrtle bowers
By blighting blasts destroyed!
Alas, the Lily's withered flowers
That leave the garden void!

Unfolds o'er tower, and waves o'er height,
A sheet of crimson sheen—
Is it the setting sun's red light
That stains our standard green?

Heaven help us in this awful hour!
For now might Faith decay—
Now might we doubt God's guardian power
And curse, instead of pray—

He will not even let us die—
Not let us die at home;
The foe must see our soldiers fly
As they had feared the Tomb:

Because, we dare not stay to gain
Those longed for, glorious graves—
We dare not shrink from slavery's chain
To leave our children slaves!

But when this scene of awful woe
Has neared its final close
As God forsook our armies, so
May He forsake our foes!

146

133. To A. S. 1830

Where beams the sun the brightest
In the noons of sweet July?
Where falls the snow the lightest
From bleak December's sky?

Where can the weary lay his head
And lay it safe the while
In a grave that never shuts its dead
From heaven's benignant smile?

Upon the earth in sunlight
Spring grass grows green and fair
But beneath the earth is midnight—
Eternal midnight there!

Then why lament that those we love
Escape Earth's dungeon Tomb?
As if the flowers that blow above
Could charm its undergloom—

From morning's faintest dawning
Till evening's deepest shade
Thou wilt not cease thy mourning
To know where she is laid;

But if to weep above her grave
Be such a priceless boon
Go, shed thy tears in Ocean's wave
And they will reach it soon.

Yet midst thy wild repining
Mad though that anguish be
Think heaven on her is shining
Even as it shines on thee—

147

With thy mind's vision pierce the Deep
Look how she rests below
And tell me why such blessed sleep
Should cause such bitter woe?

134. E. G. to M. R.

Thy Guardians are asleep
So I've come to bid thee rise;
Thou hast a holy vow to keep
Ere yon crescent quit the skies:

Though clouds careering wide
Will hardly let her gleam
She's bright enough to be our guide
Across the mountain-stream—

O waken, Dearest, wake!
What means this long delay?
Say, wilt thou not for honour's sake
Chase idle fears away?

Think not of future grief
Entailed on present joy:
An age of woe were only brief
Its memory to destroy—

And neither Hell nor Heaven
Though both conspire at last
Can take the bliss that has been given—
Can rob us of the past—

Then, waken, Mary, wake
How canst thou linger now?
For true love's and Gleneden's sake
Arise and keep thy vow!

148

135. [Had there been falsehood in my breast]

Had there been falsehood in my breast
No thorns had marred my road
This spirit had not lost its rest
These tears had never flowed

136. To A. G. A.

‘Thou standest in the greenwood now
The place, the hour, the same—
And here the fresh leaves gleam and glow
And there, down in the lake below
The tiny ripples flame—

‘The breeze sings like a summer breeze
Should sing in summer skies
And tower-like rocks and tent-like trees
In mingled glory rise.

‘But where is he today, today?’
‘O question not with me’—
‘I will not, Lady, only say
Where may thy lover be?

‘Is he upon some distant shore?
Or is he on the sea?
Or is the heart thou dost adore,
A faithless heart to thee?’

‘The heart I love, whate'er betide,
Is faithful as the grave
And neither foreign lands divide
Nor yet the rolling wave.’

149

‘Then why should sorrow cloud that brow,
And tears those eyes bedim?
Reply this once, is it that thou
Hast faithless been to him?’

‘I gazed upon the cloudless moon
And loved her all the night
Till morning came and ardent noon
Then I forgot her light—

‘No—not forgot, eternally
Remains its memory dear;
But could the day seem dark to me
Because the night was fair?

‘I well may mourn that only one
Can light my future sky
Even though by such a radiant sun
My moon of life must die’—

137. [Yes holy be thy resting place]

Yes holy be thy resting place
Wherever thou may'st lie
The sweetest winds breathe on thy face
The softest of the sky

And will not guardian Angels send
Kind dreams and thoughts of love
Though I no more may watchful bend
Thy [longed] repose above?

And will not heaven itself bestow
A beam of glory there
That summer's grass more green may grow
And summer's flowers more fair?

150

Farewell farewell 'tis hard to part
Yet loved one it must be
I would not rend another heart
Not even by blessing thee

Go we must break affection's chain
Forget the hopes of years
Nay [grieve] not willest thou remain
To waken wilder tears

This [herald] breeze with thee and me
Roved in the dawning day
And thou shouldest be where it shall be
Ere evening far away

138. A. G. A. to A. S.

At such a time, in such a spot
The world seems made of light
Our blissful hearts remember not
How surely follows night—

I cannot, Alfred, dream of aught
That casts a shade of woe;
That heaven is reigning in my thought
Which wood and wave and earth have caught
From skies that overflow—

That heaven which my sweet lover's brow
Has won me to adore—
Which from his blue eyes beaming now
Reflects a still intenser glow
Than nature's heaven can pour—

I know our souls are all divine
I know that when we die
What seems the vilest, even like thine
A part of God himself shall shine
In perfect purity—

151

But coldly breaks November's day
Its changes charmless all
Unmarked, unloved, they pass away
We do not wish one hour to stay
Nor sigh at evening's fall

And glorious is the gladsome rise
Of June's rejoicing morn
And who with unregretful eyes
Can watch the lustre leave its skies
To twilight's shade forlorn?

Then art thou not my golden June,
All mist and tempest free?
As shines earth's sun in summer noon
So heaven's sun shines in thee—

Let others seek its beams divine
In cell and cloister drear
But I have found a fairer shrine
And happier worship here—

By dismal rites they win their bliss
By penance, fasts, and fears—
I have one rite—a gentle kiss—
One penance—tender tears—

O could it thus forever be
That I might so adore
I'd ask for all eternity
To make a paradise for me,
My love—and nothing more!

152

139. [In the earth, the earth thou shalt be laid]

In the earth, the earth thou shalt be laid
A grey stone standing over thee;
Black mould beneath thee spread
And black mould to cover thee—

‘Well, there is rest there
So fast come thy prophecy—
The time when my sunny hair
Shall with grass roots twined be’

But cold, cold is that resting place
Shut out from Joy and Liberty
And all who loved thy living face
Will shrink from its gloom and thee

‘Not so, here the world is chill
And sworn friends fall from me
But there, they'll own me still
And prize my memory’

Farewell, then, all that love
All that deep sympathy:
Sleep on, heaven laughs above—
Earth never misses thee—

Turf-sod and tombstone drear
Part human company
One heart broke, only, there
That heart was worthy thee!—

140. Rodric Lesley. 1830

Lie down and rest, the fight is done
Thy comrades to the camp retire;
Gaze not so earnestly upon
The far gleam of the beacon fire.

153

Listen not to the wind-borne sounds
Of music and of soldiers' cheer;
Thou canst not go—unnumbered wounds
Exhaust thy life and hold thee here—

Had that hand power to raise the sword
Which since this morn laid hundreds low
Had that tongue strength to speak the word
That urged thy followers on the foe

Were that warm blood within thy veins
Which now upon the earth is flowing
Splashing its sod with crimson stains
Reddening the pale heath round thee growing—

Then Rodric, thou might'st still be turning
With eager eye and anxious breast
To where those signal-lights are burning—
To where thy monarch's legions rest—

But never more—Look up and see
The twilight fading from the skies
That last dim beam that sets for thee,
Rodric, for thee shall never rise!

142. M. G. for the U. S.

'Twas yesterday at early dawn
I watched the falling snow;
A drearier scene on winter morn
Was never stretched below.

154

I could not see the mountains round
But I knew by the wild wind's roar
How every drift, in their glens profound
Was deepening ever more—

And then I thought of Ula's bowers
Beyond the southern sea
Her tropic prairies bright with flowers
And rivers wandering free—

I thought of many a happy day
Spent in her Eden isle
With my dear comrades, young and gay
All scattered now so far away
But not forgot the while!

Who that has breathed that heavenly air
To northern climes would come
To Gondal's mists and moorlands drear
And sleet and frozen gloom?

Spring brings the swallow and the lark
But what will winter bring?
Its twilight noons and evenings dark
To match the gifts of spring?

No, Look with me o'er that sullen main
If thy spirit's eye can see
There are brave ships floating back again
That no calm southern port could chain
From Gondal's stormy sea.

O how the hearts of the voyagers beat
To feel the frost-wind blow!
What flower in Ula's gardens sweet
Is worth one flake of snow?

The blast which almost rends their sail
Is welcome as a friend;
It brings them home, that thundering gale
Home to their journey's end:

155

Home to our souls whose wearying sighs
Lament their absence drear
And feel how bright even winter skies
Would shine if they were here!

143. At Castle Wood

The day is done—the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky
And drear the course that [h]as been run
And dim the hearts that slowly die

No star will light my coming night
No morn of hope for me will shine
I mourn not heaven would blast my sight
And I never longed for [ways] divine

Through Life['s] hard Task I did not ask
Celestial aid celestial cheer
I saw my fate [without its] mask
And met it too without a tear

The grief that pressed this [living] breast
Was heavier far than earth can be
And who would dread eternal rest
When labour's hire was agony

Dark falls the fear of this despair
On spirits born for happiness
But I was bred the mate of care
The foster child of [sore] distress

No sighs for me, no sympathy,
No wish to keep my soul below
The heart is dead since infancy
Unwept for let the body go

156

145. A. G. A. to A. S.

This summer wind, with thee and me
Roams in the dawn of day;
But thou must be where it shall be,
Ere Evening—far away.

The farewell's echo from thy soul
Should not depart before
Hills rise and distant rivers roll
Between us evermore—

I know that I have done thee wrong—
Have wronged both thee and Heaven—
And I may mourn my lifetime long
Yet may not be forgiven—

Repentant tears will vainly fall
To cancel deeds untrue;
But for no grief can I recall
The dreary word—Adieu—

Yet thou a future peace shalt win
Because thy soul is clear;
And I who had the heart to sin
Will find a heart to bear—

Till far beyond earth's frenzied strife
That makes destruction joy
Thy perished faith shall spring to life
And my remorse shall die

157

147. E. W. to A. G. A.

How few, of all the hearts that loved,
Are grieving for thee now!
And why should mine, tonight, be moved
With such a sense of woe?

Too often, thus, when left alone
Where none my thoughts can see,
Comes back a word, a passing tone
From thy strange history.

Sometimes I seem to see thee rise
A glorious child again—
All virtues beaming from thine eyes
That ever honoured men—

Courage and Truth, a generous breast
Where Love and Gladness lay;
A being whose very Memory blest
And made the mourner gay—

O, fairly spread thy early sail
And fresh and pure and free
Was the first impulse of the gale
That urged life's wave for thee!

Why did the pilot, too confiding
Dream o'er that Ocean's foam?
And trust in Pleasure's careless guiding
To bring his vessel home?

For, well, he knew what dangers frowned,
What mists would gather dim,
What rocks and shelves and sands lay round
Between his port and him—

The very brightness of the sun,
The splendour of the main,
The wind that bore him wildly on
Should not have warned in vain

158

An anxious gazer from the shore,
I marked the whitening wave
And wept above thy fate the more
Because I could not save—

It recks not now, when all is over,
But, yet my heart will be
A mourner still, though friend and lover
Have both forgotten thee!

148. The Death of A. G. A.

Were they shepherds, who sat all day
On that brown mountain-side?
But neither staff nor dog had they;
Nor woolly flock to guide—

They were clothed in savage attire;
Their locks were dark and long;
And at each belt a weapon dire
Like bandit-knives was hung—

One was a woman tall and fair;
A princess she might be
From her stately form and her features rare
And her look of majesty—

But oh, she had a sullen frown—
A lip of cruel scorn—
As sweet tears never melted down
Her cheeks since she was born!

'Twas well she had no sceptre to wield,
No subject land to sway;
Fear might have made her vassals yield
But Love had been far away—

159

Yet, Love was even at her feet
In his most burning mood—
That Love which will the Wicked greet
As kindly as the Good—

And he was noble too, who bowed
So humbly by her side—
Entreating, till his eyes o'erflowed,
Her spirit's icy pride—

‘Angelica, from my very birth
I have been nursed in strife,
And lived upon this weary Earth
A wanderer, all my life;

‘The baited tiger could not be
So much athirst for gore,
For men and laws have tortured me
Till I can bear no more—

‘The guiltless blood upon my hands
Will shut me out from Heaven
And here, and even in foreign lands
I cannot find a haven—

‘And in all space, and in all time,
And through Eternity,
To aid a Spirit lost in crime,
I have no hope but thee—

‘Yet will I swear, No saint on high
A truer faith could prove—
No angel, from that holy sky,
Could give thee purer love!

‘For thee, through never ending years
I'd suffer endless pain;
But only give me back my tears
Return my love again!’

160

Many a time, unheeded, thus
The reckless man would pray;
But something woke an answering flush
On his lady's brow today,
And her eye flashed flame, as she turned to speak,
In concord with her reddening cheek—

‘I've known a hundred kinds of love—
All made the loved one rue;
And what is thine, that it should prove,
Than other love, more true?

‘Listen, I've known a burning heart
To which my own was given
Nay, not in passion; do not start—
Our love was love from heaven:
At least, if heavenly love be born
In the pure light of childhood's morn
Long ere the poison-tainted air
From this world's plague-fen rises there:

‘That heart was like a tropic sun
That kindles all it shines upon;
And never Magian devotee
Gave worship half so warm as I
And never radiant bow could be
So welcome in a stormy sky
My soul dwelt with her day and night
She was my all sufficing light—
My childhood's mate, my girlhood's guide
My only blessing, only pride

‘But cursed be the very earth
That gave that fiend her fatal birth!
With her own hand she bent the bow
That laid my best affections low—
Then mocked my grief and scorned my prayers
And drowned my bloom of youth in tears—
Warnings, reproaches, both were vain;
What recked she of another's pain?

161

My dearer self she would not spare—
From Honour's voice she turned his ear:
First made her love his only stay;
Then snatched the treacherous prop away!
Douglas, he pleaded bitterly—
He pleaded as you plead to me,
For life-long chains or timeless tomb
Or any, but an Exile's doom—
We both were scorned—both sternly driven
To shelter 'neath a foreign heaven;
And darkens o'er that dreary time
A wildering dream of frenzied crime—
I will not now those days recall;
The oath within that caverned hall
And its fulfilment, those you know:
We both together struck the blow:
But—you can never know the pain
That my lost heart did then sustain
When, severed wide by guiltless gore,
I felt that one could love no more!
Back maddening thought!—the grave is deep
Where my Amedeus lies asleep,
And I have long forgot to weep—

‘Now hear me, in these regions wild
I saw today my enemy
Unarmed, as helpless as a child
She slumbered on a sunny lea;
Two friends—no other guard had she;
And they were wandering on the braes;
And chasing in regardless glee,
The wild goat o'er his dangerous ways—
My hand was raised—my knife was bare;
With stealthy tread I stole along
But a wild bird sprang from his hidden lair
And woke her with a sudden song:
Yet moved she not; she only raised
Her lids and on the bright sun gazed

162

And uttered such a dreary sigh
I thought just then she should not die
Since living was such misery—
Now Douglas, for our hunted band—
For future joy and former woe
Assist me, with thy heart and hand
To send to hell my mortal foe—
Her friends fall first, that she may drain
A deeper cup of bitterer pain;
Yonder they stand and watch the waves
Dash in among the echoing caves—
Their farewell sight of earth and sea;
Come, Douglas, rise and go with me’—

The lark sang clearly overhead
And sweetly hummed the Bee
And softly, round their dying bed,
The wind blew from the sea—

Fair Surry would have raised her eyes
To see that water shine;
To see once more in mountain skies
The summer sun decline:

But ever, on her fading cheek,
The languid lid would close
As weary that such light should break
Its much-desired repose—

And she was waning fast away—
Even Memory's voice grew dim;
Her former life's eventful day
Had dwindled to a dream:

And hardly could her mind recall
One thought of joy or pain;
That cloud was gathering over all
Which never clears again!

163

In vain—in vain, you need not gaze
Upon those features now!
That sinking head you need not raise,
Nor kiss that pulseless brow—

Let out the grief that chokes your breath;
Lord Lesley, set it free:
The sternest eye, for such a death
Might fill with sympathy.

The tresses o'er her bosom spread
Were by a faint breeze blown;
‘Her heart is beating,’ Lesley said;
‘She is not really gone!’

And still that form he fondly pressed,
And still of hope he dreamed
Nor marked how from his own young breast
Life's crimson current streamed—

At last, the sunshine left the ground,
The laden bee flew home,
The deep down sea, with sadder sound
Impelled its waves to foam;

And the corpse grew heavy on his arm,
The starry heaven grew dim,
The summer night so mild and warm
Felt wintery chill to him.

A troubled shadow, o'er his eye
Came down, and rested there;
The moors and sky went swimming by
Confused and strange and drear

He faintly prayed, ‘Oh, Death, delay
Thy last fell dart to throw
Till I can hear my Sovereign say,
The traitors' heads are low!

164

‘God, guard her life, since not to me
That dearest boon was given;
God, bless her arm with victory
Or bless not me with heaven!’

Then came the cry of agony;
The pang of parting pain;
And he had overpassed the sea
That none can pass again.

Douglas leaned above the well;
Heather banks around him rose;
Bright and warm the sunshine fell
On that spot of sweet repose—

With the blue heaven bending o'er
And the soft wind singing by
And the clear stream, evermore
Mingling harmony—

On the shady side reclined,
He watched its waters play
And sound and sight had well combined
To banish gloom away—

A voice spoke near—‘She'll come,’ it said
‘And Douglas, thou shalt be
My love, although the very dead
Should rise to rival thee!

‘Now, only let thine arm be true
And nerved, like mine, to kill;
And Gondal's royal race shall rue
This day on Elmor Hill!’

They wait not long, the rustling heath
Betrays their royal foe;
With hurried step and panting breath
And cheek almost as white as death,
Augusta sprang below—

165

Yet marked she not where Douglas lay
She only saw the well;
The tiny fountain, churning spray
Within its mossy cell—

‘Oh, I have wrongs to pay,’ she cried,
‘Give life, give vigour now!’
And, stooping by the water's side,
She drank its crystal flow.

And brightly, with that draught, came back
The glory of her matchless eye
As, glancing o'er the moorland track,
She shook her head impatiently—

Nor shape, nor shade—the mountain flocks
Quietly feed in grassy dells;
Nor sound, except the distant rocks
Echoing to their bells.

She turns—she meets the Murderer's gaze:
Her own is scorched with a sudden blaze—
The blood streams down her brow;
The blood streams through her coal-black hair—
She strikes it off with little care;
She scarcely feels it flow,
For she has marked and known him too
And his own heart's ensanguined dew
Must slake her vengeance now!

False friend! no tongue save thine can tell
The mortal strife that then befell:
But, ere night darkened down
The stream in silence sang once more
And, on its green bank, bathed in gore
Augusta lay alone!

166

False Love! no earthly eye did see,
Yet Heaven's pure eye regarded thee
Where thy own Douglas bled—
How thou didst turn in mockery
From his last hopeless agony
And leave the hungry hawk to be
Sole watcher of the dead!

Was it a deadly swoon?
Or was her spirit really gone?
And the cold corpse, beneath the moon
Laid like another mass of dust and stone?

The moon was full that night
The sky was almost like the day:
You might have seen the pulse's play
Upon her forehead white;

You might have seen the dear, dear sign of life
In her uncovered eye
And her cheek changing in the mortal strife
Betwixt the pain to live and agony to die.

But nothing mutable was there!
The face, all deadly fair,
Showed a fixed impress of keen suffering past,
And the raised lid did show
No wandering gleam below
But a stark anguish, self-destroyed at last—

Long he gazed and held his breath,
Kneeling on the blood-stained heath;
Long he gazed those lids beneath
Looking into Death!

Not a word from his followers fell,
They stood by, mute and pale;
That black treason uttered well
Its own heart-harrowing tale—

167

But earth was bathed in other gore:
There were crimson drops across the moor
And Lord Eldred, glancing round
Saw those tokens on the ground:

‘Bring him back!’ he hoarsely said,
‘Wounded is the traitor fled—
Vengeance may hold but minutes brief
And you have all your lives for grief—’

He is left alone—he sees the stars
Their quiet course continuing
And, far away, down Elmor scars
He hears the stream its waters fling:

That lulling monotone did sing
Of broken rock and shaggy glen,
Of welcome for the moorcock's wing,
But, not of wail for men!

Nothing in heaven or earth to show
One sign of sympathizing woe—
And nothing but that agony
In her now unconscious eye
To weigh upon the labouring breast
And prove she did not pass at rest—
But he who watched, in thought had gone
Retracing back her lifetime flown;
Like sudden ghosts, to memory came
Full many a face, and many a name,
Full many a heart, that in the tomb
He almost deemed might have throbbed again
Had they but known her dreary doom,
Had they but seen their idol there,
A wreck of desolate despair,
Left to the wild birds of the air
And mountain winds and rain!
For him—no tear his stern eye shed
As he looked down upon the dead—

168

‘Wild morn’—he thought—‘and doubtful noon;
But yet it was a glorious sun
Though comet-like its course was run:
That sun should never have been given
To burn and dazzle in the heaven
Or night has quenched it far too soon!
And thou art gone—with all thy pride,
Thou, so adored, so deified!
Cold as the earth, unweeting now
Of love, or joy, or mortal woe—

‘For what thou wert, I would not grieve,
But much, for what thou wert to be—
That life, so stormy and so brief,
That death, has wronged us more than thee!
Thy passionate youth was nearly past
The opening sea seemed smooth at last
Yet vainly flowed the calmer wave
Since fate had not decreed to save—
And vain too must the sorrow be
Of those who live to mourn for thee;
But Gondal's foes shall not complain
That thy dear blood was poured in vain!’

169

151. D. G. C. to J. A.

Come, the wind may never again
Blow as now it blows for us
And the stars may never again, shine as now they shine;
Long before October returns
Seas of blood will have parted us
And you must crush the love in your heart
And I, the love in mine!

For face to face will our kindred stand
And as they are so we shall be
Forgetting how the same sweet earth has borne and nourished all—
One must fight for the people's power
And one for the rights of royalty
And each be ready to give his life to work the other's fall—

The chance of war we cannot shun
Nor would we shrink from our fathers' cause
Nor dread Death more because the hand that gives it may be dear
We must bear to see Ambition rule
Over Love, with his iron laws;
Must yield our blood for a stranger's sake and refuse ourselves a tear!

So, the wind may never again
Blow as now it blows for us
And the stars may never again shine as now they shine
Next October, the cannon's roar
From hostile ranks may be urging us—
Me to strike for your life's blood and you to strike for mine—

170

154. From a Dungeon Wall in the Southern College

‘Listen! when your hair like mine
Takes a tint of silver grey,
When your eyes, with dimmer shine,
Watch life's bubbles float away,

‘When you, young man, have borne like me
The weary weight of sixty-three
Then shall penance sore be paid
For these hours so wildly squandered
And the words that now fall dead
On your ears be deeply pondered
Pondered and approved at last
But their virtue will be past!

‘Glorious is the prize of Duty
Though she be a serious power
Treacherous all the lures of Beauty
Thorny bud and poisonous flower!

‘Mirth is but a mad beguiling
Of the golden gifted Time—
Love—a demon meteor wiling
Heedless feet to gulfs of crime.

‘Those who follow earthly pleasure
Heavenly Knowledge will not lead
Wisdom hides from them her treasure,
Virtue bids them evil speed!

‘Vainly may their hearts, repenting,
Seek for aid in future years—
Wisdom scorned knows no relenting—
Virtue is not won by tears

171

‘Fain would we your steps reclaim
Waken fear and holy shame
And to this end, our council well
And kindly doomed you to a cell
Whose darkness, may perchance, disclose
A beacon-guide from sterner woes’—

So spake my judge—then seized his lamp
And left me in the dungeon damp,
A vault-like place whose stagnant air
Suggests and nourishes despair!

Rosina, this had never been
Except for you, my despot queen!
Except for you the billowy sea
Would now be tossing under me
The wind's wild voice my bosom thrill
And my glad heart bound wilder still

Flying before the rapid gale
Those wondrous southern isles to hail
Which wait for my companions free
But thank your passion—not for me!

You know too well—and so do I
Your haughty beauty's sovereignty
Yet have I read those falcon eyes—
Have dived into their mysteries—
Have studied long their glance and feel
It is not love those eyes reveal—

They Flash—they burn with lightning shine
But not with such fond fire as mine;
The tender star fades faint and wan
Before Ambition's scorching sun—
So deem I now—and Time will prove
If I have wronged Rosina's love—

172

161. [A thousand sounds of happiness]

A thousand sounds of happiness
And only one of real distress;
One hardly uttered groan—
But that has hushed all vocal joy,
Eclipsed the glory of the sky
And made me think that misery
Rules in our world alone!

About his face the sunshine glows
And in his hair the south wind blows
And violet and wild wood-rose
Are sweetly breathing near

Nothing without suggests dismay
If he could force his mind away
From tracking farther day by day
The desert of Despair—

173

Too truly agonized to weep
His eyes are motionless as sleep,
His frequent sighs long-drawn and deep
Are anguish to my ear
And I would soothe but can I call
The cold corpse from its funeral pall
And cause a gleam of hope to fall
With my consoling tear?

O Death, so many spirits driven
Through this false world, their all had given
To win the everlasting haven
To sufferers so divine—

Why didst thou smite the loved the blest
The ardent and the happy breast
That full of hope desired not rest
And shrank appalled from thine?

At least, since thou wilt not restore
In mercy launch one arrow more
Life's conscious Death it wearies sore
It tortures worse than thee—
Enough of storms have bowed his head,
Grant him at last a quiet bed
Beside his early stricken Dead
Even where he yearns to be!

162. A. E. and R. C.

Heavy hangs the raindrop
From the burdened spray;
Heavy broods the damp mist
On Uplands far away;

Heavy looms the dull sky,
Heavy rolls the sea—
And heavy beats the young heart
Beneath that lonely tree—

174

Never has a blue streak
Cleft the clouds since morn—
Never has his grim Fate
Smiled since he was born—

Frowning on the infant,
Shadowing childhood's joy,
Guardian angel knows not
That melancholy boy—

Day is passing swiftly
Its sad and sombre prime;
Youth is fast invading
Sterner manhood's time—

All the flowers are praying
For sun before they close
And he prays too, unknowing,
That sunless human rose!

Blossoms, that the west wind
Has never wooed to blow
Scentless are your petals
Your dew as cold as snow.

Soul, where kindred kindness
No early promise woke
Barren is your beauty
As weed upon the rock—

Wither, Brothers, wither,
You were vainly given—
Earth reserves no blessing
For the unblessed of Heaven!

Child of Delight! with sunbright hair
And seablue seadeep eyes
Spirit of Bliss, what brings thee here
Beneath these sullen skies?

175

Thou shouldest live in eternal spring
Where endless day is never dim
Why, seraph, has thy erring wing
Borne thee down to weep with him?

‘Ah, not from heaven am I descended
And I do not come to mingle tears
But sweet is day, though with shadows blended
And though clouded, sweet are youthful years—

‘I, the image of light and gladness
Saw and pitied that mournful boy
And I swore to take his gloomy sadness
And give to him my beamy joy—

‘Heavy and dark the night is closing
Heavy and dark may its biding be
Better for all from grief reposing
And better for all who watch like me—

‘Guardian angel, he lacks no longer;
Evil fortune he need not fear:
Fate is strong but Love is stronger
And more unsleeping than angel's care’—

164. M. A. Written on the Dungeon Wall—N. C.

I know that tonight, the wind is sighing,
The soft August wind, over forest and moor
While I in a grave-like chill am lying
On the damp black flags of my dungeon-floor—

176

I know that the Harvest Moon is shining;
She neither will wax nor wane for me,
Yet I weary, weary, with vain repining,
One gleam of her heaven-bright face to see!

For this constant darkness is wasting the gladness
Fast wasting the gladness of life away;
It gathers up thoughts akin to madness
That never would cloud the world of day

I chide with my soul—I bid it cherish
The feelings it lived on when I was free,
But, shrinking it murmurs, ‘Let Memory perish
Forget for thy Friends have forgotten thee!’

Alas, I did think that they were weeping
Such tears as I weep—it is not so!
Their careless young eyes are closed in sleeping;
Their brows are unshadowed, undimmed by woe—

Might I go to their beds, I'd rouse that slumber,
My spirit should startle their rest, and tell
How hour after hour, I wakefully number
Deep buried from light in my lonely cell!

Yet let them dream on, though dreary dreaming
Would haunt my pillow if they were here
And I were laid warmly under the gleaming
Of that guardian moon and her comrade star—

Better that I my own fate mourning
Should pine alone in the prison-gloom
Than waken free on the summer morning
And feel they were suffering this awful doom

177

165. Julian M. and A. G. Rochelle

Silent is the House—all are laid asleep;
One, alone, looks out o'er the snow-wreaths deep;
Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze
That whirls the wildering drifts and bends the groaning trees—

Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor
Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door
The little lamp burns straight; its rays shoot strong and far
I trim it well to be the Wanderer's guiding-star—

Frown, my haughty sire, chide my angry Dame;
Set your slaves to spy, threaten me with shame;
But neither sire nor dame, nor prying serf shall know
What angel nightly tracks that waste of winter snow—

In the dungeon crypts idly did I stray
Reckless of the lives wasting there away;
‘Draw the ponderous bars, open Warder stern!’
He dare not say me nay—the hinges harshly turn—

‘Our guests are darkly lodged’ I whispered gazing through
The vault whose grated eye showed heaven more grey than blue;
(This was when glad spring laughed in awaking pride.)
‘Aye, darkly lodged enough!’ returned my sullen guide—

Then, God forgive my youth, forgive my careless tongue!
I scoffed as the chill chains on the damp flagstones rung;
‘Confined in triple walls, art thou so much to fear,
That we must bind thee down and clench thy fetters here?’

The captive raised her face; it was as soft and mild
As sculptured marble saint or slumbering, unweaned child
It was so soft and mild, it was so sweet and fair
Pain could not trace a line nor grief a shadow there!

178

The captive raised her hand and pressed it to her brow
‘I have been struck,’ she said, ‘and I am suffering now
Yet these are little worth, your bolts and irons strong
And were they forged in steel they could not hold me long’—

Hoarse laughed the jailer grim ‘Shall I be won to hear
Dost think fond, dreaming wretch, that I shall grant thy prayer?
Or better still, wilt melt my master's heart with groans?
Ah sooner might the sun thaw down these granite stones!—

‘My master's voice is low, his aspect bland and kind
But hard as hardest flint the soul that lurks behind:
And I am rough and rude, yet, not more rough to see
Than is the hidden ghost which has its home in me!’

About her lips there played a smile of almost scorn
‘My friend,’ she gently said, ‘you have not heard me mourn
When you my parents' lives—my lost life, can restore
Then may I weep and sue, but, never, Friend, before!’

Her head sank on her hands, its fair curls swept the ground
The dungeon seemed to swim in strange confusion round—
‘Is she so near to death?’ I murmured, half aloud
And kneeling, parted back the floating golden cloud

Alas, how former days upon my heart were borne
How memory mirrored then the prisoner's joyous morn
Too blithe, too loving Child, too warmly, wildly gay!
Was that the wintry close of thy celestial May?

She knew me and she sighed ‘Lord Julian, can it be,
Of all my playmates, you, alone, remember me?
Nay start not at my words, unless you deem it shame
To own from conquered foe, a once familiar name—

‘I cannot wonder now at aught the world will do
And insult and contempt I lightly brook from you,
Since those, who vowed away their souls to win my love
Around this living grave like utter strangers move!

179

‘Nor has one voice been raised to plead that I might die
Not buried under earth but in the open sky
By ball or speedy knife or headsman's skilful blow—
A quick and welcome pang instead of lingering woe!

‘Yet, tell them, Julian, all, I am not doomed to wear
Year after year in gloom and desolate despair;
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me
And offers, for short life, eternal liberty.

‘He comes with western winds, with evening's wandering airs,
With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars;
Winds take a pensive tone, and stars a tender fire
And visions rise and change which kill me with desire—

‘Desire for nothing known in my maturer years
When joy grew mad with awe at counting future tears;
When, if my spirit's sky was full of flashes warm,
I knew not whence they came from sun or thunderstorm;

‘But first a hush of peace, a soundless calm descends;
The struggle of distress and fierce impatience ends;
Mute music soothes my breast—unuttered harmony
That I could never dream till earth was lost to me.

‘Then dawns the Invisible, the Unseen its truth reveals;
My outward sense is gone, my inward essence feels—
Its wings are almost free, its home, its harbour found;
Measuring the gulf it stoops and dares the final bound!

‘Oh, dreadful is the check—intense the agony
When the ear begins to hear and the eye begins to see;
When the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again,
The soul to feel the flesh and the flesh to feel the chain!

‘Yet I would lose no sting, would wish no torture less;
The more that anguish racks the earlier it will bless;
And robed in fires of Hell, or bright with heavenly shine,
If it but herald Death, the vision is divine’—

180

She ceased to speak and I, unanswering watched her there
Not daring now to touch one lock of silken hair—
As I had knelt in scorn, on the dank floor I knelt still—
My fingers in the links of that iron hard and chill—

I heard and yet heard not the surly keeper growl;
I saw, yet did not see, the flagstone damp and foul;
The keeper, to and fro, paced by the bolted door
And shivered as he walked and as he shivered, swore—

While my cheek glowed in flame, I marked that he did rave
Of air that froze his blood and moisture like the grave—
‘We have been two hours good!’ he muttered peevishly,
Then, loosing off his belt the rusty dungeon key,

He said, ‘You may be pleased, Lord Julian, still to stay
But duty will not let me linger here all day;
If I might go, I'd leave this badge of mine with you
Not doubting that you'd prove a jailer stern and true’

I took the proffered charge; the captive's drooping lid
Beneath its shady lash a sudden lightning hid
Earth's hope was not so dead heaven's home was not so dear
I read it in that flash of longing quelled by fear

Then like a tender child whose hand did just enfold
Safe in its eager grasp a bird it wept to hold
When pierced with one wild glance from the troubled hazel eye
It gushes into tears and lets its treasure fly

Thus ruth and selfish love together striving tore
The heart all newly taught to pity and adore;
If I should break the chain, I felt my bird would go
Yet I must break the chain or seal the prisoner's woe—

Short strife what rest could soothe—what peace could visit me
While she lay pining there for Death to set her free?
‘Rochelle, the dungeons teem with foes to gorge our hate—
Thou art too young to die by such a bitter fate!’

181

With hurried blow on blow I struck the fetters through
Regardless how that deed my after hours might rue
Oh, I was over-blest by the warm unasked embrace
By the smile of grateful joy that lit her angel face!

And I was over-blest—aye, more than I could dream
When, faint, she turned aside from noon's unwonted beam;
When though the cage was wide—the heaven around it lay—
Its pinion would not waft my wounded dove away—

Through thirteen anxious weeks of terror-blent delight
I guarded her by day and guarded her by night
While foes were prowling near and Death gazed greedily
And only Hope remained a faithful friend to me—

Then oft with taunting smile, I heard my kindred tell
‘How Julian loved his hearth and sheltering roof-tree well;
How the trumpet's voice might call the battle-standard wave
But Julian had no heart to fill a patriot's grave.’

And I, who am so quick to answer sneer with sneer;
So ready to condemn to scorn a coward's fear
I held my peace like one whose conscience keeps him dumb
And saw my kinsmen go—and lingered still at home.

Another hand than mine, my rightful banner held
And gathered my renown on Freedom's crimson field
Yet I had no desire the glorious prize to gain—
It needed braver nerve to face the world's disdain—

And by the patient strength that could that world defy;
By suffering with calm mind, contempt and calumny;
By never-doubting love, unswerving constancy,
Rochelle, I earned at last an equal love from thee!

182

167. [No coward soul is mine]

No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear

O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest
As I Undying Life, have power in thee

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

Though Earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee

There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed

183

168. [Why ask to know the date—the clime?]

Why ask to know the date—the clime?
More than mere words they cannot be:
Men knelt to God and worshipped crime,
And crushed the helpless even as we—

But, they had learnt, from length of strife—
Of civil war and anarchy
To laugh at death and look on life
With somewhat lighter sympathy.

It was the autumn of the year,
The time to labouring peasants, dear:
Week after week, from noon to noon,
September shone as bright as June—
Still, never hand a sickle held;
The crops were garnered in the field—
Trod out and ground by horses' feet
While every ear was milky sweet;
And kneaded on the threshing-floor
With mire of tears and human gore.
Some said they thought that heaven's pure rain
Would hardly bless those fields again:
Not so—the all-benignant skies
Rebuked that fear of famished eyes—
July passed on with showers and dew,
And August glowed in showerless blue;
No harvest time could be more fair
Had harvest fruits but ripened there.

And I confess that hate of rest,
And thirst for things abandoned now,
Had weaned me from my country's breast
And brought me to that land of woe.

Enthusiast—in a name delighting,
My alien sword I drew to free
One race, beneath two standards fighting,
For Loyalty, and Liberty—

184

When kindred strive, God help the weak!
A brother's ruth 'tis vain to seek:
At first, it hurt my chivalry
To join them in their cruelty;
But I grew hard—I learnt to wear
An iron front to terror's prayer;
I learnt to turn my ears away
From torture's groans, as well as they.
By force I learnt—what power had I
To say the conquered should not die?
What heart, one trembling foe to save
When hundreds daily filled the grave?
Yet, there were faces that could move
A moment's flash of human love;
And there were fates that made me feel
I was not to the centre, steel—

I've often witnessed wise men fear
To meet distress which they foresaw;
And seeming cowards nobly bear
A doom that thrilled the brave with awe;

Strange proofs I've seen, how hearts could hide
Their secret with a life-long pride,
And then reveal it as they died—
Strange courage, and strange weakness too,
In that last hour when most are true,
And timid natures strangely nerved
To deeds from which the desperate swerved.
These I may tell, but leave them now.
Go with me where my thoughts would go;
Now all today and all last night
I've had one scene before my sight—

Wood-shadowed dales; a harvest moon
Unclouded in its glorious noon;
A solemn landscape, wide and still;
A red fire on a distant hill—
A line of fires, and deep below,
Another dusker, drearier glow—

185

Charred beams, and lime, and blackened stones
Self-piled in cairns o'er burning bones,
And lurid flames that licked the wood
Then quenched their glare in pools of blood—
But yestereve—No! never care;
Let street and suburb smoulder there—
Smoke-hidden, in the winding glen,
They lay too far to vex my ken.
Four score shot down—all veterans strong—
One prisoner spared, their leader young—
And he within his house was laid,
Wounded, and weak and nearly dead.
We gave him life against his will;
For he entreated us to kill—
But statue-like we saw his tears—
And harshly fell our captain's sneers!

‘Now, heaven forbid!’ with scorn he said—
‘That noble gore our hands should shed
Like common blood—retain thy breath
Or scheme, if thou canst purchase death—
When men are poor we sometimes hear
And pitying grant that dastard prayer;
When men are rich, we make them buy
The pleasant privilege, to die—
O, we have castles reared for kings
Embattled towers and buttressed wings
Thrice three feet thick, and guarded well
With chain, and bolt, and sentinel!
We build our despots' dwellings sure;
Knowing they love to live secure—
And our respect for royalty
Extends to thy estate and thee!’

The suppliant groaned; his moistened eye
Swam wild and dim with agony—
The gentle blood could ill sustain
Degrading taunts, unhonoured pain.
Bold had he shown himself to lead;
Eager to smite and proud to bleed—

186

A man amid the battle's storm;
An infant in the after calm.

Beyond the town his mansion stood
Girt round with pasture-land and wood;
And there our wounded soldiers lying
Enjoyed the ease of wealth in dying:

For him, no mortal more than he
Had softened life with luxury;
And truly did our priest declare
‘Of good things he had had his share.’

We lodged him in an empty place,
The full moon beaming on his face
Through shivered glass, and ruins, made
Where shell and ball the fiercest played.
I watched his ghastly couch beside
Regardless if he lived or died—
Nay, muttering curses on the breast
Whose ceaseless moans denied me rest:

'Twas hard, I know, 'twas harsh to say,
‘Hell snatch thy worthless soul away!’
But then 'twas hard my lids to keep
Through this long night, estranged from sleep.
Captive and keeper, both outworn,
Each in his misery yearned for morn;
Even though returning morn should bring
Intenser toil and suffering.

Slow, slow it came! Our dreary room
Grew drearier with departing gloom;
Yet as the west wind warmly blew
I felt my pulses bound anew,
And turned to him—nor breeze, nor ray
Revived that mould of shattered clay,
Scarce conscious of his pain he lay—
Scarce conscious that my hands removed
The glittering toys his lightness loved—
The jewelled rings, and locket fair

187

Where rival curls of silken hair,
Sable and brown revealed to me
A tale of doubtful constancy.

‘Forsake the world without regret,’
I murmured in contemptuous tone;
‘The world, poor wretch, will soon forget
Thy noble name when thou art gone!
Happy, if years of slothful shame
Could perish like a noble name—
If God did no account require
And being with breathing might expire!’
And words of such [contempt] I said,
Cold insults o'er a dying bed,
Which as they darken memory now
Disturb my pulse and flush my brow;
I know that Justice holds in store,
Reprisals for those days of gore—
Not for the blood, but for the sin
Of stifling mercy's voice within.
The blood spilt gives no pang at all;
It is my conscience haunting me,
Telling how oft my lips shed gall
On many a thing too weak to be,
Even in thought, my [enemy]—
And whispering ever, when I pray,
‘God will repay—God will repay!’
He does repay and soon and well
The deeds that turn his earth to hell
The wrongs that aim a venomed dart
Through nature at the Eternal Heart—
Surely my cruel tongue was cursed
I know my prisoner heard me speak
A transient gleam of feeling burst
And wandered o'er his haggard cheek
And from his quivering lids there stole
A look to melt a demon's soul
A silent prayer more powerful far
Than any breathed petitions are

188

Pleading in mortal agony
To mercy's Source but not to me—
Now I recall that glance and groan
And wring my hands in vain distress
Then I was adamantine stone
Nor felt one touch of tenderness—
My plunder ta'en I left him there
Without [one breath] of morning air
To struggle with his last despair
Regardless of the wildered cry
Which wailed for death yet wailed to die
I left him there unwatched alone
And eager sought the court below
Where o'er a trough of chiselled stone
An ice cold well did gurgling flow
The water in its basin shed
A stranger tinge of fiery red.
I drank and scarcely marked the hue
My food was dyed with crimson too
As I went out a [ragged] child
With wasted cheek and ringlets wild
A shape of fear and misery
Raised up her [helpless] hands to me
And begged her father's face to see
I spurned the piteous wretch away
Thy father's [face] is lifeless clay
As thine mayst be ere fall of day
Unless the truth be quickly told
Where thou hast hid thy father's gold
Yet in the intervals of pain
He heard my taunts and moaned again
And mocking moans did I reply
And asked him why he would not die
In noble agony—uncomplaining.
Was it not foul disgrace and shame
To thus disgrace his ancient name?

189

Just then a comrade came hurrying in
Alas, he cried, sin genders sin
For every soldier slain they've sworn
To hang up five come morn.
They've ta'en of stranglers sixty-three
Full thirty from one company
And all my father's family
And comrade thou hadst only one
They've ta'en thy all thy little son
Down at my captive's feet I fell
I had no option in despair
As thou wouldst save thy soul from hell
My heart's own darling bid them spare
Or human hate and hate divine
Blight every orphan flower of thine
He raised his head—from death beguiled
He wakened up he almost smiled
Twice in my arms twice on my knee
You stabbed my child and laughed at me
And so, with choking voice he said
I trust I hope in God she's dead
Yet not to thee not even to thee
Would I return such misery
Such is that [fearful] grief I know
I will not cause thee equal woe
Write that they harm no infant there
Write that it is my latest prayer
I wrote—he signed and thus did save
My treasure from the gory grave
And O my soul longed wildly then
To give his saviour life again.
But heedless of my gratitude
The silent corpse before me lay
And still methinks in gloomy mood
I see it fresh as yesterday
The sad face raised imploringly

190

To mercy's God and not to me—
The last [look] of that agony
I could not rescue him his child
I found alive and tended well
But she was full of anguish wild
And hated me like we hate hell
And weary with her savage woe
One moonless night I let her go

169. [Why ask to know what date what clime]

Why ask to know what date what clime
There dwelt our own humanity
Power-worshippers from earliest time
Foot-kissers of triumphant crime
Crushers of helpless misery
Crushing down Justice honouring Wrong
If that be feeble this be strong

Shedders of blood shedders of tears
Self-cursers avid of distress
Yet Mocking heaven with senseless prayers
For mercy on the merciless

It was the autumn of the year
When grain grows yellow in the ear
Day after day from noon to noon,
That August's sun blazed bright as June

But we with unregarding eyes
Saw panting earth and glowing skies
No hand the reaper's sickle held
Nor bound the ripe sheaves in the field

Our corn was garnered months before,
Threshed out and kneaded-up with gore
Ground when the ears were milky sweet
With furious toil of hoofs and feet
I doubly cursed on foreign sod
Fought neither for my home nor God