University of Virginia Library

He was all manly beauty, and she seemed
As fair a form as ever poet dreamed
'Mid early love's imaginings; with eyes
Dove-like and beautiful, and lofty brow,
White as the snow on Alpine summits lies;
Upon her cheek there was a brilliant glow
Like young Aurora's earliest, brightest blush,
Deepening at her sweet lip, till it became
The crimson tint of summer eve; the flush
Of changeful feeling, hope, or joy, or shame,
Gave sweetness to a face that else had been
Too samely beautiful: none e'er had seen
Her innocent smile but paused to look again,
She seemed so pure, so free from every stain
Of earthly feeling; and young Edgar's heart
Scarce trusted its own bliss when in her face
He read (what nought save looks can e'er impart)
The love, the tenderness that steals new grace
From maiden bashfulness; aye, low his proud
And lofty spirit at her shrine was bowed.
The guileless fancies of unsullied youth;
Its high-souled aspirations after truth;
The innocent wishes, vague and undefined;
The brilliant visions of a lofty mind;
The hope that only on fame's mountain height
His eagle spirit e'er should rest its flight,—
All these were his; and when the traitor Love
Around that spirit's snowy pinions wove
His silken bonds, in vain might he essay
Its heavenward course 'mid myrtle groves to stay;
The soft, light fetters only seemed to bring
Renewed freshness to each radiant wing.

Yet all his soul was hers; and what did she
With such a prize? Did she not joy to see
Its proud upspringing? Did she not aspire
To catch a spark of the ethereal fire?
And did not her less powerful mind reflect
A brightness from his vivid intellect?
No! all too glorious was the dazzling blaze
Of genius placed before her timid gaze;
She shrank before his brilliancy, content
To find in vanity her element.
His love for her was pure as it was deep;
Not like the shallow brook whose wavelets break
When the light breezes o'er its surface sweep,
But like the mighty ocean that can wake
Only to brave the tempest.
But when all thought him happiest,—for the time
When he might claim his promised bride drew near
(Alas! they know not the heart's changeful clime
Who only see its summer flowers),—a shade
Gathered upon his brow; he seemed to wear
Less joyous smiles than he was wont. 'Twas said
That she was faithless; but he breathed not one
Unkind reproach; the soul of life was gone
From him forever; and nought now was left
Save a wide waste of all its bloom bereft.
The idol he had worshipped was o'erthrown;
Its ruined fane was in his heart alone.
Yet he could not believe that she would brook
Another's tenderness—a little while
And she was wedded; he beheld her smile
Upon another with the same sweet look
That once had greeted him: then first he knew
His bosom's hopeless misery; then too
He felt how surely she had withered all
His spirit's high-wrought energies; in vain
He strove his hopes of glory to recall—
Alas! there was no guerdon now to gain.

He deemed hope dead within his heart, and then
Alas! he plunged amid the haunts of men.
Aye, that proud heart, so full of holy feeling,
Was joined unto the world—the stain of earth
So slowly o'er his guileless bosom stealing,
Though hid beneath the sparkling flowers of mirth,
A darker, deeper madness could impart
Than even grief had left within his heart.
His spirit's plumes were sullied; but not long
He paused to hear soft pleasure's syren song;
Not long his noble nature thus could bear
The joys where innocence might find no share.

There was a gentle girl for whom he felt
A brother's tenderness, and she knew well
His wrongs and sufferings; often had she knelt
Beside him when she marked the fearful swell
Of the blue veins upon his brow, which told
That thought again her record had unrolled;
And she alone his sadness could beguile
With her soft voice, her sweetly pensive smile,
Or soothe with tears she sought not to repress.
She spoke to him of peace (for happiness
She knew he hoped no longer), and she gave
Fresh motive for exertion: day by day
Her gentle kindness won its silent way,
Until he felt that he again could brave
The world's wild storms. Affection's deepest stream
Was sealed within his bosom; but the beam
Of kind benevolence across it glowed
Until it seemed as though again it flowed
Unfettered; but such thought indeed were vain—
Nought now on earth could e'er unloose that chain;
His lip again a tranquil smile might wear,
But memory's waste was ruled by fell despair.

Yet Ada felt that deep and passionate love
Was in her heart; at first she vainly strove
Against its power; she knew she ought to fly;
Yet what kind, gentle one would then be nigh
To watch o'er Edgar's melancholy mood,
And save him from the heart's dread solitude?
O! man can never know what treasures lie
Within the quiet depths of woman's soul;
How strong the fortitude that dares to die
E'en with a broken heart, yet can control
Each painful murmur. Ada knew she ne'er
Could be aught than his sister, though so dear
Her innocent heart had held him—a few years
Of mingled joys and sorrows, hopes and fears,
And then they must be parted; he would wear
Upon his brow the laurel's fadeless bloom,
While her heart, worn by many a secret tear,
Would find its shelter in the silent tomb.

Days passed away, and Ada's bloom had fled.
She felt that soon the city of the dead
Would greet her as its habitant; and yet
Her gentle bosom breathed not one regret:
She feared if she should live and he depart,
Grief might reveal the secret of her heart;
But now while she could listen to his voice
Whose silver tones bade her sad soul rejoice;
Now while to her his tenderness was given,
Death was the dearest boon she sought from Heaven.
Yet e'en this consolation was denied;
For accident revealed what maiden pride
Had closely hidden; pangs that long had slept
In Edgar's breast were roused: “Have I doomed thee,
Mine innocent child, to hopeless misery?”
He clasped her to his bosom and they wept,
Bitterly wept together; but she rose
As though the fountains of her weeping froze
E'en in their flow, her arms were round him thrown,
One kiss upon his brow, and she was gone.

Days, weeks passed on; but from that time he ne'er
Had seen sweet Ada; many a bitter tear
Had he in secret shed, when he was told
That she was dying; ere that heart was cold
Which had loved him so well, ere she was free
From worldly thoughts, she prayed his face to see.
He came; she sat beside the lattice, where
The jasmine twined its bridal blossoms fair;
A transient blush suffused her cheek; she sighed:
“Think like this flower thine own dear Ada died;
It felt no lightning-stroke, no tempest's strife,
But withered 'neath the sun that gave it life.”
She laid her head upon his breast—life's last
And happiest moment—then—her spirit passed!