 | My Lyrical Life |  |
WEDDED LOVE.
The summer Night comes brooding over Earth,
As Love comes brooding down on human hearts,
With bliss that hath no utterance save rich tears.
She floats in fragrance through the smiling dark,
Foldeth a kiss upon the lips of Life,
Curtaineth into rest the weary world,
And shuts us in with all our hid delight.
The stars come sparkling through the tender gloom,
Like dew-drops in the fields of heaven; or tears
That hang their jewels on the face of Night.
A spirit-feel comes down the calm, and soft
The Flowers fold their cups like praying hands,
And with drooped head await the blessing, Night
Gives with her Motherly magnanimity.
As Love comes brooding down on human hearts,
With bliss that hath no utterance save rich tears.
She floats in fragrance through the smiling dark,
Foldeth a kiss upon the lips of Life,
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And shuts us in with all our hid delight.
The stars come sparkling through the tender gloom,
Like dew-drops in the fields of heaven; or tears
That hang their jewels on the face of Night.
A spirit-feel comes down the calm, and soft
The Flowers fold their cups like praying hands,
And with drooped head await the blessing, Night
Gives with her Motherly magnanimity.
'Tis evening with the world; but in my soul
The light of wedded love is still at dawn
Around my world, an everlasting Dawn.
My heart rings out in music, like a Lark
Hung in the charmèd palace of the Morn,
That circles singing to its mate i' the nest,
With luminous being running o'er in song:
So my life flutters round its mate at home!
There, with her eyes turned on her heart, she reads
The golden secrets written in its book,
And broodeth o'er its hidden wealth of love,
As Night i' the hush and halo of her beauty
Bares throbbing heaven to its most tremulous depths,
And broods in silence o'er her starry wealth.
The light of wedded love is still at dawn
Around my world, an everlasting Dawn.
My heart rings out in music, like a Lark
Hung in the charmèd palace of the Morn,
That circles singing to its mate i' the nest,
With luminous being running o'er in song:
So my life flutters round its mate at home!
There, with her eyes turned on her heart, she reads
The golden secrets written in its book,
And broodeth o'er its hidden wealth of love,
As Night i' the hush and halo of her beauty
Bares throbbing heaven to its most tremulous depths,
And broods in silence o'er her starry wealth.
And, fingering in her bosom's soft, white nest,
A fair babe, beautiful as Dawn in heaven,
Made of a Mother's richest thoughts of love,—
Lies like a smile of sunshine among lilies,
That giveth glory—drinking fragrant life.
Sweet bud upon a Rose! our plot of spring,
And burst of bloom amid a wintry world!
How dear it is to mark the look of life
Deepen, and darken, in her large, round eyes,—
To watch the other rose put forth its leaves,
And guess the perfumed secret of its heart;
To catch the silver words that come to break
The golden silence hung like heaven around!
A fair babe, beautiful as Dawn in heaven,
Made of a Mother's richest thoughts of love,—
Lies like a smile of sunshine among lilies,
That giveth glory—drinking fragrant life.
Sweet bud upon a Rose! our plot of spring,
And burst of bloom amid a wintry world!
How dear it is to mark the look of life
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To watch the other rose put forth its leaves,
And guess the perfumed secret of its heart;
To catch the silver words that come to break
The golden silence hung like heaven around!
But lo, my hush of thought is thrilling, as
A wood at night brims o'er with sudden song:
Dear Wife! with rich, low voice, she syllables
Some precious music hoarded in her heart,
And I am flooded with melodious rain,
Like Nature standing crowned with sunlit showers.
A wood at night brims o'er with sudden song:
Dear Wife! with rich, low voice, she syllables
Some precious music hoarded in her heart,
And I am flooded with melodious rain,
Like Nature standing crowned with sunlit showers.
“As the heaving heart o' the Sea yearneth everlastingly
For the Moon, heaven-charmèd by her influence:
And as Star to Star with love palpitateth like a dove,
So my heart yearns up to his bright eminence.
For the Moon, heaven-charmèd by her influence:
And as Star to Star with love palpitateth like a dove,
So my heart yearns up to his bright eminence.
“For my Love, he seems to stand where Heaven leans so near at hand,
That from other worlds his lineaments take light:
And he fills my cup of wonder, flooding all my life with splendour,
As a glorious, golden Moon fills all the night.
That from other worlds his lineaments take light:
And he fills my cup of wonder, flooding all my life with splendour,
As a glorious, golden Moon fills all the night.
“At the music of his words my heart carols like a bird's,
And rich instincts burst from out it like heaven-flowers;
Wings bud in me at his kiss, all my being brims with bliss,
As a valley brims with life in spring-tide hours.
And rich instincts burst from out it like heaven-flowers;
Wings bud in me at his kiss, all my being brims with bliss,
As a valley brims with life in spring-tide hours.
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“For my life was dark and cold as the night-dews on the wold,
Waiting to be made alive with fire of dawn;
Till his presence on me lightened, and his blessing on me brightened,
And my life like dews lit up for heaven shone.”
Waiting to be made alive with fire of dawn;
Till his presence on me lightened, and his blessing on me brightened,
And my life like dews lit up for heaven shone.”
Nay, Sweet Heart! that should be my song, who search
Love's lore in vain for fit similitudes
To symbol what thy love hath been to me.
The God lies prisoned in the mountain stone,
The muffled Music slumbers in the strings,
Awaiting the Deliverer's magic touch!
So, thou belovèd! did I wait for Thee,
To waken at thy touch. My Tree of being
But made blind gropings in the dark, cold earth,
And moaned and trembled in the wintry air,
Stretching out naked hands to pluck at life:
Until you came, with all your light, and warmth,
Encircling round it like a summer heaven,
And fed, and clad it with your fragrant beauty,
Till budding branches burst on fire with bloom,
And into ripe fruits mellowed goldenly.
My life lay barren as a desolate moor
That breaks, and burns, in twinkling green and gold,
When Spring gives greeting with her kiss of life.
Love's lore in vain for fit similitudes
To symbol what thy love hath been to me.
The God lies prisoned in the mountain stone,
The muffled Music slumbers in the strings,
Awaiting the Deliverer's magic touch!
So, thou belovèd! did I wait for Thee,
To waken at thy touch. My Tree of being
But made blind gropings in the dark, cold earth,
And moaned and trembled in the wintry air,
Stretching out naked hands to pluck at life:
Until you came, with all your light, and warmth,
Encircling round it like a summer heaven,
And fed, and clad it with your fragrant beauty,
Till budding branches burst on fire with bloom,
And into ripe fruits mellowed goldenly.
My life lay barren as a desolate moor
That breaks, and burns, in twinkling green and gold,
When Spring gives greeting with her kiss of life.
As weary earth goes darkling through the night,
So my heart toiled on, tearful with its burthen:
No beacon burned through all the gloom, to break
The sea of dark, with shining piers of light:
Then on a sudden rose the blessed Morn,
Sun-crowned my life, made all things beautiful,
And gave the world its Eden-robes again.
My spirit rose up orient with light;
Thy presence caught my heart up at the leap,
Winged like a young world from the hands of God!
Methought a thousand graves of buried hopes
Could crush it not from its proud eminence.
The Future's dim cloud-curtain rent in twain,
And lightened radiant revelation: All
Life's purpose dawned, as unto dying eyes
The dark of Death doth glisten into stars.
So my heart toiled on, tearful with its burthen:
No beacon burned through all the gloom, to break
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Then on a sudden rose the blessed Morn,
Sun-crowned my life, made all things beautiful,
And gave the world its Eden-robes again.
My spirit rose up orient with light;
Thy presence caught my heart up at the leap,
Winged like a young world from the hands of God!
Methought a thousand graves of buried hopes
Could crush it not from its proud eminence.
The Future's dim cloud-curtain rent in twain,
And lightened radiant revelation: All
Life's purpose dawned, as unto dying eyes
The dark of Death doth glisten into stars.
And since we met, thy life-long thought hath been
To be cup-bearer of the wine of joy
To one leal heart, and to make rich one life.
Pulse after pulse, thy life hath mixed with mine,
Like sea-waves hurrying up the beach to crown
Their shore, and break in starry showers of light.
Thou hast brought radiant sunrise every morn,
Renewing all the glory passed away.
Thy tender love hath twined about my life,
Like the fair Woodbine wedded to the Thorn;
Hiding its harshness with her wealth of flowers!
My heart drinks inspiration at thine eyes,
And lights my brain up as with fragrant flame:
Sweet eyes of starry tenderness, through which
The soul of some immortal sorrow looks!
Sorrow that addeth grace to loveliness,
As its sad bloom enricheth the ripe fruit.
Dear Eyes! they have a radiant Alchemy,
And pierce my being with such quickening light
As makes my heart a jewel-mine of love;
Even as the Sun strikes through the dark cold Earth,
And fires her million veins with precious life.
To be cup-bearer of the wine of joy
To one leal heart, and to make rich one life.
Pulse after pulse, thy life hath mixed with mine,
Like sea-waves hurrying up the beach to crown
Their shore, and break in starry showers of light.
Thou hast brought radiant sunrise every morn,
Renewing all the glory passed away.
Thy tender love hath twined about my life,
Like the fair Woodbine wedded to the Thorn;
Hiding its harshness with her wealth of flowers!
My heart drinks inspiration at thine eyes,
And lights my brain up as with fragrant flame:
Sweet eyes of starry tenderness, through which
The soul of some immortal sorrow looks!
Sorrow that addeth grace to loveliness,
As its sad bloom enricheth the ripe fruit.
Dear Eyes! they have a radiant Alchemy,
And pierce my being with such quickening light
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Even as the Sun strikes through the dark cold Earth,
And fires her million veins with precious life.
My Life ran like a river in rocky ways,
And seaward dashed, a sounding cataract!
But thine was like a quiet lake of beauty,
Soft-shadowed round by gracious influences,
That gathers silently its wealth of earth,
And woos heaven till it melts down into it.
They mingled: and the glory, and the calm,
Closed round me, brooding into perfect rest.
O blessings on thy true and tender heart!
How it hath gone forth like the Dove of old,
To bring some leaf of promise in Life's deluge!
Thou hast a strong up-soaring tendency,
That bears me God-ward, as the stalwart oak
Uplifts the clinging vine, and gives it growth.
Thy reverent heart familiarly doth take
Unconscious clasp of high and holy things,
And trusteth where it may not understand.
We have had sorrows, love! and wept the tears
That run the rose-hue from the cheek of Life;
But Grief hath jewels as Night hath her stars,
And she revealeth what we ne'er had known,
With Joy-wreaths danced about o'er our blinded eyes.
The heart is like an instrument whose strings
Steal nobler music from Life's many frets:
The golden threads are spun through Suffering's fire,
Wherewith the marriage-robes for heaven are woven:
And all the rarest hues of human life
Take radiance, and are rainbowed out in tears.
And seaward dashed, a sounding cataract!
But thine was like a quiet lake of beauty,
Soft-shadowed round by gracious influences,
That gathers silently its wealth of earth,
And woos heaven till it melts down into it.
They mingled: and the glory, and the calm,
Closed round me, brooding into perfect rest.
O blessings on thy true and tender heart!
How it hath gone forth like the Dove of old,
To bring some leaf of promise in Life's deluge!
Thou hast a strong up-soaring tendency,
That bears me God-ward, as the stalwart oak
Uplifts the clinging vine, and gives it growth.
Thy reverent heart familiarly doth take
Unconscious clasp of high and holy things,
And trusteth where it may not understand.
We have had sorrows, love! and wept the tears
That run the rose-hue from the cheek of Life;
But Grief hath jewels as Night hath her stars,
And she revealeth what we ne'er had known,
With Joy-wreaths danced about o'er our blinded eyes.
The heart is like an instrument whose strings
Steal nobler music from Life's many frets:
The golden threads are spun through Suffering's fire,
Wherewith the marriage-robes for heaven are woven:
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Take radiance, and are rainbowed out in tears.
Thou'rt little changed, dear love! since we were wed.
Thy beauty hath climaxed like a crescent Moon,
With glory greatening to the golden full.
Thy flowers of spring are crowned with summer fruits,
And thou hast put a queenlier presence on
With thy regality of Womanhood!
Yet Time but toucheth thee with mellowing shades
That set thy graces in a wealthier light.
Thy soul still looks with its rare smile of love,
From the Gate Beautiful of its palace-home,
Fair as the spirit of the evening Star,
That lights its glory as a radiant porch
To beacon earth with brighter glimpse of heaven.
Thy beauty hath climaxed like a crescent Moon,
With glory greatening to the golden full.
Thy flowers of spring are crowned with summer fruits,
And thou hast put a queenlier presence on
With thy regality of Womanhood!
Yet Time but toucheth thee with mellowing shades
That set thy graces in a wealthier light.
Thy soul still looks with its rare smile of love,
From the Gate Beautiful of its palace-home,
Fair as the spirit of the evening Star,
That lights its glory as a radiant porch
To beacon earth with brighter glimpse of heaven.
We are poor in this world's wealth, but rich in love;
And they who love feel rich in everything.
The heart of Ocean—thick with gems, as earth
With blooms—is jewelled like a Bride o' the East:
The heart of Heaven swarms with golden worlds:
A subtle heart of wealth hath our old world,
And darks of diamonds, grand as nights of stars:
But richer is the human heart that shrines
The peerless wealth—th' immortal jewel Love!
So let us live our life! and let our love,
Our large twin-love, above our children bend,
As the calm grand old heavens bend over earth,
Revealing God's own starry thoughts and things;
So shall the image of our hearts' Ideal—
The angel nestling in their bud of life—
Smile upward in the mirror of their face
A daily beauty in our darkened ways,
And a perpetual feast of holy things.
And they who love feel rich in everything.
The heart of Ocean—thick with gems, as earth
With blooms—is jewelled like a Bride o' the East:
The heart of Heaven swarms with golden worlds:
A subtle heart of wealth hath our old world,
And darks of diamonds, grand as nights of stars:
But richer is the human heart that shrines
The peerless wealth—th' immortal jewel Love!
So let us live our life! and let our love,
Our large twin-love, above our children bend,
As the calm grand old heavens bend over earth,
Revealing God's own starry thoughts and things;
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The angel nestling in their bud of life—
Smile upward in the mirror of their face
A daily beauty in our darkened ways,
And a perpetual feast of holy things.
O let us walk the world, so that our love
Burn like a blessed beacon, beautiful
Upon the walls of Life's surrounding dark.
Ah! what a world 'twould be if love like ours
Made heaven in human hearts, and clothed with smiles
The sweet sad face of our Humanity!
What lives should quicken into sudden spring!
What flowers of glory burst their frozen soil!
As the red pulse of Dawn through cold gray skies,
New life should flush up in the darkened face
That readeth like a mourning epitaph
Above the grave of beauty and of soul!
A light should glimmer on the Helot's brow,
And love should come into the mirkest being
As mellowest moonlight silvers through the cloud.
Burn like a blessed beacon, beautiful
Upon the walls of Life's surrounding dark.
Ah! what a world 'twould be if love like ours
Made heaven in human hearts, and clothed with smiles
The sweet sad face of our Humanity!
What lives should quicken into sudden spring!
What flowers of glory burst their frozen soil!
As the red pulse of Dawn through cold gray skies,
New life should flush up in the darkened face
That readeth like a mourning epitaph
Above the grave of beauty and of soul!
A light should glimmer on the Helot's brow,
And love should come into the mirkest being
As mellowest moonlight silvers through the cloud.
1851.
| My Lyrical Life | |