 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
RESOLUTION
It is done. My bowed spirit hath risen amain,
Hath conquered her weakness, hath riven her chain—
I gaze on your beauty, but bend not the knee—
Not a pulse stirs more wildly, I am free! I am free!
Hath conquered her weakness, hath riven her chain—
I gaze on your beauty, but bend not the knee—
Not a pulse stirs more wildly, I am free! I am free!
93
Yet the rose on your cheek hath lost none of its bloom,
That brow is undarkened by shadow of gloom,
On the blue eye and red lip the smile is as bright
As when I first basked in its unchanging light.
That brow is undarkened by shadow of gloom,
On the blue eye and red lip the smile is as bright
As when I first basked in its unchanging light.
It is in my own soul such a change hath been wrought
That I calmly look on—a nerve quivereth not—
And I breathe but a sigh that a form so divine
Should embody a spirit ignoble as thine.
That I calmly look on—a nerve quivereth not—
And I breathe but a sigh that a form so divine
Should embody a spirit ignoble as thine.
You mistook me—you thought I was one of the crowd
That down at your altar adoringly bowed—
For whom life had no higher or holier aim,
Who cared not for duty—who recked not of fame.
That down at your altar adoringly bowed—
For whom life had no higher or holier aim,
Who cared not for duty—who recked not of fame.
True: Passion for one little hour held control,
And its tide swept resistlessly over my soul—
The sword of my strength was corroded with rust,
And the robes of my manhood were trailed in the dust.
And its tide swept resistlessly over my soul—
The sword of my strength was corroded with rust,
And the robes of my manhood were trailed in the dust.
But not thus was the greenness of life to be blighted,
Your own hand quenched the flame which the same hand had lighted,
The face and the form are surpassingly fair,
The crown and the glory—the soul—is not there.
Your own hand quenched the flame which the same hand had lighted,
The face and the form are surpassingly fair,
The crown and the glory—the soul—is not there.
94
And thus when your heart lent indifferent ear
To the tale that your vanity panted to hear,
You did me good service, my lady, I trow.
I shall be to you never less grateful than now.
To the tale that your vanity panted to hear,
You did me good service, my lady, I trow.
I shall be to you never less grateful than now.
For you broke me the spell, I awaked to new life,
I am strong for endurance and action and strife;
I have sworn to embody a worthier part,
I am sterner of soul, I am braver of heart.
I am strong for endurance and action and strife;
I have sworn to embody a worthier part,
I am sterner of soul, I am braver of heart.
I bid you farewell then forever and ever;
I have launched my good barque on the waves of Life's river,
It shall mount every billow that rears its white crest
From the gray of the East to the purple-flecked West.
I have launched my good barque on the waves of Life's river,
It shall mount every billow that rears its white crest
From the gray of the East to the purple-flecked West.
And if, gentle lady, the swift-footed years
Shall bring, as they shall, my name to your ears,
If a chaplet of laurel encircle the brow
That ever flushed for you, but is marble cold now,
Shall bring, as they shall, my name to your ears,
If a chaplet of laurel encircle the brow
That ever flushed for you, but is marble cold now,
Remember, I pray, that the garland you view
Caught its first glowing freshness and verdure from you,
That in your heartless words and the smile of your scorn
The impulse that led me to glory was born.
Caught its first glowing freshness and verdure from you,
That in your heartless words and the smile of your scorn
The impulse that led me to glory was born.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |