My Beautiful Lady, Nelly Dale By Thomas Woolner |
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MY LADY IN DEATH. |
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 | My Beautiful Lady, Nelly Dale |  |
97
I. MY LADY IN DEATH.
All is but coloured show. I look
Into the green light shed
By leaves above my head,
And feel its inmost worth forsook
My being, when she died.
This heart, now hot and dried,
Halts, as the parched course where a brook
Mid flowers was wont to flow,
Because her life is now
No more than stories in a printed book.
Into the green light shed
By leaves above my head,
And feel its inmost worth forsook
My being, when she died.
This heart, now hot and dried,
Halts, as the parched course where a brook
Mid flowers was wont to flow,
Because her life is now
No more than stories in a printed book.
Grass thickens proudly o'er that breast,
Clay-cold and sadly still,
My happy face felt thrill.
How much her dear, dear mouth expressed!
And now are closed and set
Lips which my own have met!
Her eyelids by the damp earth pressed!
Damp earth weighs on her eyes;
Damp earth shuts out the skies.
My Lady rests her heavy, heavy rest.
Clay-cold and sadly still,
My happy face felt thrill.
How much her dear, dear mouth expressed!
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Lips which my own have met!
Her eyelids by the damp earth pressed!
Damp earth weighs on her eyes;
Damp earth shuts out the skies.
My Lady rests her heavy, heavy rest.
To see her high perfection sweep
The favoured earth, as she
With welcoming palms met me!
How can I but recall and weep?
Her hands' light charm was such,
Care vanished at their touch.
Her feet spared little things that creep;
“For stars are not,” she'd say,
“More wonderful than they.”
And now she sleeps her heavy, heavy sleep.
The favoured earth, as she
With welcoming palms met me!
How can I but recall and weep?
Her hands' light charm was such,
Care vanished at their touch.
Her feet spared little things that creep;
“For stars are not,” she'd say,
“More wonderful than they.”
And now she sleeps her heavy, heavy sleep.
Immortal hope shone on that brow,
Above whose waning forms
Go softly real worms.
Surely it was a cruel blow
Which cut my Darling's life
Sharply, as with a knife;
I hate my own that lets me grow
As grows a bitter root
From which rank poisons shoot
Upon the grave where she is lying low
Above whose waning forms
Go softly real worms.
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Which cut my Darling's life
Sharply, as with a knife;
I hate my own that lets me grow
As grows a bitter root
From which rank poisons shoot
Upon the grave where she is lying low
Ah, hapless fate! Could it be just,
That her young life should play
Its easy, natural way;
Then, with an unexpected thrust,
Be hence thus rudely sent;
Even as her feelings blent
With those around, whose love would trust
Her willing power to bless,
For all their happiness?
Alone she moulders into common dust.
That her young life should play
Its easy, natural way;
Then, with an unexpected thrust,
Be hence thus rudely sent;
Even as her feelings blent
With those around, whose love would trust
Her willing power to bless,
For all their happiness?
Alone she moulders into common dust.
Small birds twitter and peck the weeds
That wave above this bed
Where my dear Love lies dead:
They flutter and burst the globèd seeds,
And beat the downy pride
Of dandelions, wide:
From speargrass, bowed with watery beads,
The wet uniting, drips
In sparkles off the tips:
In mallow bloom the wild bee drops and feeds.
That wave above this bed
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They flutter and burst the globèd seeds,
And beat the downy pride
Of dandelions, wide:
From speargrass, bowed with watery beads,
The wet uniting, drips
In sparkles off the tips:
In mallow bloom the wild bee drops and feeds.
No more she hears, where vines adorn
Her window, on the boughs
Birds chirrup an arouse:
Flies, buzzing, strengthening with the morn,
She will not hear again
At random strike the pane:
No more against the newly shorn
Grass edges will her gown
In playful waves be thrown,
As she walks forth to view what flowers are born.
Her window, on the boughs
Birds chirrup an arouse:
Flies, buzzing, strengthening with the morn,
She will not hear again
At random strike the pane:
No more against the newly shorn
Grass edges will her gown
In playful waves be thrown,
As she walks forth to view what flowers are born.
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Nor ponder more those dark green rings
Stained quaintly on the lea,
To picture elfin glee;
While through the grass a faint air sings,
And swarms of insects revel
Along the sultry level:
No more will watch their brilliant wings,
Now lightly dip, now soar,
Then sink, and rise once more.
My Lady's death makes dear these trivial things.
Stained quaintly on the lea,
To picture elfin glee;
While through the grass a faint air sings,
And swarms of insects revel
Along the sultry level:
No more will watch their brilliant wings,
Now lightly dip, now soar,
Then sink, and rise once more.
My Lady's death makes dear these trivial things.
One noon, within an oak's broad shade,
Lost in delightful talk,
We rested from our walk.
Beyond the shadow, large and staid,
Cows chewed with drowsy eye
Their cud complacently:
Elegant deer walked o'er the glade,
Or stood with wide bright eyes
Gazing a short surprise;
And up the fern slope nimble conies played.
Lost in delightful talk,
We rested from our walk.
Beyond the shadow, large and staid,
Cows chewed with drowsy eye
Their cud complacently:
Elegant deer walked o'er the glade,
Or stood with wide bright eyes
Gazing a short surprise;
And up the fern slope nimble conies played.
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As rooks cawed labouring through the heat;
Each wing-flap seemed to make
Their weary bodies ache;
And swallows, though so wildly fleet,
Made breathless pauses there
At something in the air.
All disappeared: our pulses beat
Distincter throbs, and each
Turned and kissed without speech,
She trembling from her mouth down to her feet.
Each wing-flap seemed to make
Their weary bodies ache;
And swallows, though so wildly fleet,
Made breathless pauses there
At something in the air.
All disappeared: our pulses beat
Distincter throbs, and each
Turned and kissed without speech,
She trembling from her mouth down to her feet.
Then, as I felt her bosom heave,
And listened to the din
Of joyous life within,
Could I but in my heaven believe,
Assured by that repose
Within my heart, and those
Warm arms around my neck! While eve
In shadowy silence came
And quenched the Western flame,
That lingered round her as if loth to leave.
And listened to the din
Of joyous life within,
Could I but in my heaven believe,
Assured by that repose
Within my heart, and those
Warm arms around my neck! While eve
In shadowy silence came
And quenched the Western flame,
That lingered round her as if loth to leave.
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Then told I in a whispered tone
Of that approaching time,
When merry peal and chime
Of marriage ringing should make known,
In crashes through the air
Exultingly we were
By solemn rite each other's own:
And she, confiding, meek,
Against mine pressed her cheek,
And gave response in happy tears alone.
Of that approaching time,
When merry peal and chime
Of marriage ringing should make known,
In crashes through the air
Exultingly we were
By solemn rite each other's own:
And she, confiding, meek,
Against mine pressed her cheek,
And gave response in happy tears alone.
No heed of time took we, because
Those clanging bells had quite
Absorbed us in delight.
A happiness so perfect awes
The failing pulse and breath,
Like the mute doom of death:
Then, in an instantaneous pause
Flashed on my vacant eye
A swift Eternity;
And starting, as if clutched by demon-claws,
Those clanging bells had quite
Absorbed us in delight.
A happiness so perfect awes
The failing pulse and breath,
Like the mute doom of death:
Then, in an instantaneous pause
Flashed on my vacant eye
A swift Eternity;
And starting, as if clutched by demon-claws,
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Awakened from a dizzy swoon,
I felt appalling fears
With ringings in my ears,
And wondered why the glaring moon
Swung round the dome of night
With such stupendous might.
Next came, like the sweet air of June,
A treacherous calm suspense
That bred a loathly sense,
Some nameless ill would overwhelm us soon.
I felt appalling fears
With ringings in my ears,
And wondered why the glaring moon
Swung round the dome of night
With such stupendous might.
Next came, like the sweet air of June,
A treacherous calm suspense
That bred a loathly sense,
Some nameless ill would overwhelm us soon.
She passed like summer flowers away.
Her aspect and her voice
Will never more rejoice,
For she lies hushed in cold decay.
Broken the golden bowl
Which held her hallowed soul:
It was an idle boast to say
“Our souls are as the same,”
And stings me now to shame:
Her spirit went, and mine did not obey.
Her aspect and her voice
Will never more rejoice,
For she lies hushed in cold decay.
Broken the golden bowl
Which held her hallowed soul:
It was an idle boast to say
“Our souls are as the same,”
And stings me now to shame:
Her spirit went, and mine did not obey.
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The black truth, with a fiery dart,
Went hurtling through my thought,
When I beheld her brought
Whence she with life did not depart.
Her beauty by degrees
Sank, sharpened from disease:
The heavy sinking at her heart
Sucked hollows in her cheek,
And made her eyelids weak,
Though oft they opened wide with sudden start.
Went hurtling through my thought,
When I beheld her brought
Whence she with life did not depart.
Her beauty by degrees
Sank, sharpened from disease:
The heavy sinking at her heart
Sucked hollows in her cheek,
And made her eyelids weak,
Though oft they opened wide with sudden start.
The Deathly Power in silence drew
My Lady's life away.
I watched, dumb for dismay,
The shock of thrills that quivered through
Her wasted frame, and shook
The meaning in her look,
As near, more near, the moment grew.
O horrible suspense!
O giddy impotence!
I saw her features lax, and change their hue.
My Lady's life away.
I watched, dumb for dismay,
The shock of thrills that quivered through
Her wasted frame, and shook
The meaning in her look,
As near, more near, the moment grew.
O horrible suspense!
O giddy impotence!
I saw her features lax, and change their hue.
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Her gaze, grown large with fate, was cast
Where my mute agonies
Made sadder her sad eyes:
Her breath caught with short plucks and fast,
Then one hot choking strain;
She never breathed again.
I had the look which was her last:
Her love, when breath was gone,
One moment lingering shone,
Then slowly closed, and hope for ever passed.
Where my mute agonies
Made sadder her sad eyes:
Her breath caught with short plucks and fast,
Then one hot choking strain;
She never breathed again.
I had the look which was her last:
Her love, when breath was gone,
One moment lingering shone,
Then slowly closed, and hope for ever passed.
A dreadful tremour ran through space
When first the mournful toll
Rang for My Lady's soul.
The shining world was hell; her grace
Only the flattering gleam
And mockery of a dream:
Oblivion struck me like a mace,
And as a tree that's hewn
I dropped, in a dead swoon,
And lay a long time cold upon my face.
When first the mournful toll
Rang for My Lady's soul.
The shining world was hell; her grace
Only the flattering gleam
And mockery of a dream:
Oblivion struck me like a mace,
And as a tree that's hewn
I dropped, in a dead swoon,
And lay a long time cold upon my face.
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Earth had one quarter turned before
My miserable fate
Pressed down with its whole weight.
My sense came back; and shivering o'er
I felt a pain to bear
The sun's keen cruel glare,
Which shone not warm as heretofore;
And never more its rays
Will satisfy my gaze:
No more; no more; O, never any more.
My miserable fate
Pressed down with its whole weight.
My sense came back; and shivering o'er
I felt a pain to bear
The sun's keen cruel glare,
Which shone not warm as heretofore;
And never more its rays
Will satisfy my gaze:
No more; no more; O, never any more.
| My Beautiful Lady, Nelly Dale | |