Marcian Colonna An Italian Tale with Three Dramatic Scenes and Other Poems: By Barry Cornwall [i.e. Bryan Waller Procter] |
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| VI. |
| VII. | VII. |
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| XVI. |
| III. |
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 | Marcian Colonna |  |
VII.
The hours passed gently,—even happily
Awhile; tho' sometimes o'er Colonna's brow
There shone a meaning strange, as tho' his doom
Flashed like a light across his memory,
And left behind a momentary gloom;
This would he smile away, and then forget,
And then again, sighing, remember: yet,
Over pale Julia's face that shadow cast
A shadow like itself, and when it passed
Its sad reflection vanished. Lovers' eyes
Bright mirrors are where Love may look and see
Its gladness, grief, beauty, deformity,
Pictured in all their answering colours plain,
So long as the true life and Soul remain;
For when the substance shrinks the shadow flies.
Awhile; tho' sometimes o'er Colonna's brow
There shone a meaning strange, as tho' his doom
Flashed like a light across his memory,
And left behind a momentary gloom;
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And then again, sighing, remember: yet,
Over pale Julia's face that shadow cast
A shadow like itself, and when it passed
Its sad reflection vanished. Lovers' eyes
Bright mirrors are where Love may look and see
Its gladness, grief, beauty, deformity,
Pictured in all their answering colours plain,
So long as the true life and Soul remain;
For when the substance shrinks the shadow flies.
Thus lived Colonna, 'till to common eyes
He seemed redeemed and rescued from despair;
And often would he catch the joyous air
Of the mere idler, and the past would seem,
To him and others, like a terrible dream
Dissolved: 'twas then a clearer spirit grew
In his black eye, and over the deep blue
Of Julia's a soft happier radiance hung,
Like the dark beauty from the starlight flung
Upon the world, which tells Heaven's breast is clear
Within, and that abroad no cloud is near.
He seemed redeemed and rescued from despair;
And often would he catch the joyous air
Of the mere idler, and the past would seem,
To him and others, like a terrible dream
Dissolved: 'twas then a clearer spirit grew
In his black eye, and over the deep blue
Of Julia's a soft happier radiance hung,
Like the dark beauty from the starlight flung
Upon the world, which tells Heaven's breast is clear
Within, and that abroad no cloud is near.
| Marcian Colonna | |