 | Women must weep |  |
A FALLEN STAR.
She was noble in feature and face,
With the lights of the shine and shower,
And the wind and the sea had given the grace
Of their freedom and uncheck'd power;
But there lay on her lovely dower
A shadow, that was the troubled trace
Of a grievous fall in the glorious race,
As the night on a ruined tower;
In the headlong pace,
At the bitter hour,
She had lost her woman's splendid place,
For the rose's faded bower.
With the lights of the shine and shower,
And the wind and the sea had given the grace
Of their freedom and uncheck'd power;
But there lay on her lovely dower
A shadow, that was the troubled trace
Of a grievous fall in the glorious race,
As the night on a ruined tower;
In the headlong pace,
At the bitter hour,
She had lost her woman's splendid place,
For the rose's faded bower.
She had only dropp'd from the ranks
As a child for a little time,
When its heart is set on some idle pranks,
Or it hears the music chime;
She had never dream'd of crime,
But she knew of her garden's sorry blanks,
And she saw a flower on the sunny banks—
A flower from a fairer chime.
On the treacherous planks,
In the secret slime,
She slipt at the grasp in her joyous thanks,
And she found but the ashes' grime.
As a child for a little time,
When its heart is set on some idle pranks,
Or it hears the music chime;
She had never dream'd of crime,
But she knew of her garden's sorry blanks,
And she saw a flower on the sunny banks—
A flower from a fairer chime.
On the treacherous planks,
In the secret slime,
She slipt at the grasp in her joyous thanks,
And she found but the ashes' grime.
And the wretched deed was wrought,
Though she nothing meant but play;
And the priceless gem was sold and bought,
For a villain's holiday;
And she stood on the stony way,
In the sad eclipse that she had not sought,
By a coward's hand to the gutter brought,
That had turn'd her summer gray.
But the fight was fought,
And the vanquish'd pay;
And her brow was branded deep, and nought
Could the inward pangs allay.
Though she nothing meant but play;
And the priceless gem was sold and bought,
For a villain's holiday;
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In the sad eclipse that she had not sought,
By a coward's hand to the gutter brought,
That had turn'd her summer gray.
But the fight was fought,
And the vanquish'd pay;
And her brow was branded deep, and nought
Could the inward pangs allay.
But she long'd to break her ties,
And her girlish breast was pain'd;
And her girlish fingers to the skies,
Which on others mercies rain'd,
Were in wild petition strain'd;
And she strove to burst from the prisoning lies,
And the things that fed like carrion-flies
On the life of honour drain'd;
But she could not rise,
For the star was stain'd,
And the heaven seemed deaf to her piteous cries,
The accusing blot remained.
And her girlish breast was pain'd;
And her girlish fingers to the skies,
Which on others mercies rain'd,
Were in wild petition strain'd;
And she strove to burst from the prisoning lies,
And the things that fed like carrion-flies
On the life of honour drain'd;
But she could not rise,
For the star was stain'd,
And the heaven seemed deaf to her piteous cries,
The accusing blot remained.
| Women must weep | |