 | Ernest |  |
Gaily he spoke, yet earnestly, to both
Aloud—but his heart's feeling to his own
Dear maiden's ear. Yet had he put those words
Into a trumpet blast, and sounded them
Till echo's self were stunned, not so had he told
His tale more clearly to the matron's mind
Than by that soft suppression; that betrays
Thro' silence, surer than the shrillest sound.
The love that thrills the daughter's heart, gives too
Some token to the mother's head, that what
One feels the other knows. That chord outlives
The severance of birth, binding the two
By consciousness—communion, happy indeed
Where mutual wills meet in one kindly bond
With common knowledge. Else, if they stand off,
Sundered, as oft betides, and wholly averse,
Most comfortless. Oh Love, where wert thou schooled?
Who taught thee such a stretch of tyranny,
That thou must brag thy strength against their tried
Kindness, before whose wiser eldership
That strength should bow down, and forego itself,
Biding rebukal. Wherefore dost set up
Fathers and dearest friends, to stand for foes,
Only to strike them down? Vaunting thyself
Therein most wantonly, where pity were
Indeed but Nature; and the unnatural
Only are pitiless—pluming thy pride
E'en with those tender plumes which the parent birds
Plucked from their bosom for the homely nest
Which thou dost scatter in air—avaunt—away.
Aloud—but his heart's feeling to his own
Dear maiden's ear. Yet had he put those words
Into a trumpet blast, and sounded them
Till echo's self were stunned, not so had he told
His tale more clearly to the matron's mind
Than by that soft suppression; that betrays
Thro' silence, surer than the shrillest sound.
The love that thrills the daughter's heart, gives too
Some token to the mother's head, that what
One feels the other knows. That chord outlives
The severance of birth, binding the two
By consciousness—communion, happy indeed
Where mutual wills meet in one kindly bond
With common knowledge. Else, if they stand off,
Sundered, as oft betides, and wholly averse,
Most comfortless. Oh Love, where wert thou schooled?
Who taught thee such a stretch of tyranny,
91
Kindness, before whose wiser eldership
That strength should bow down, and forego itself,
Biding rebukal. Wherefore dost set up
Fathers and dearest friends, to stand for foes,
Only to strike them down? Vaunting thyself
Therein most wantonly, where pity were
Indeed but Nature; and the unnatural
Only are pitiless—pluming thy pride
E'en with those tender plumes which the parent birds
Plucked from their bosom for the homely nest
Which thou dost scatter in air—avaunt—away.
| Ernest | |