 | Benoni |  |
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THE BETROTHED.
They say that thou shalt not for long
Be free to list a nameless song—
That thou hast ceased to be alone,
And even now about thine own
Be free to list a nameless song—
That thou hast ceased to be alone,
And even now about thine own
Dost knit another's heart: the strange,
The wondrous-sweet, the eternal change
Is coming o'er thee; soon or late
Thou glidest toward the marriage-state.
The wondrous-sweet, the eternal change
Is coming o'er thee; soon or late
Thou glidest toward the marriage-state.
Henceforth, thro' special converse, he
Brightens and softens into thee,
And thou with fuller strength dost brim
Thy soul, enlarging up to him.
Brightens and softens into thee,
And thou with fuller strength dost brim
Thy soul, enlarging up to him.
Two voices, thro' the long dear days
To come, are mixt in one sweet maze
Of sound: two lucid veins and clear
Of twisted light begin from here
To come, are mixt in one sweet maze
Of sound: two lucid veins and clear
Of twisted light begin from here
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And merge in heaven: two kindred stars
Do weave and melt their fretted spars
Of sheen above thy marriage-bed:
Thy life is double—thou art wed!
Do weave and melt their fretted spars
Of sheen above thy marriage-bed:
Thy life is double—thou art wed!
Ah queenliest of delights on earth,
And rich with yet a deeper worth
As promise of the years unborn—
The years beyond thy bridal morn!
And rich with yet a deeper worth
As promise of the years unborn—
The years beyond thy bridal morn!
Ah joys of spirit—thy partial soul,
And his, concentring to a whole—
Ah joys of sense—by Love refined,
But saved: pledge of her human kind!
And his, concentring to a whole—
Ah joys of sense—by Love refined,
But saved: pledge of her human kind!
For he doth clasp thee round, and thou
Dost feel his breath upon thy brow,
And feel his kisses warm thine eyes;
The while he whispers lullabies
Dost feel his breath upon thy brow,
And feel his kisses warm thine eyes;
The while he whispers lullabies
Of tender dreams and thoughts of good:
Then, with the cooling of the blood
And nurture in the sober school
Of life, your passion too shall cool,—
Then, with the cooling of the blood
And nurture in the sober school
Of life, your passion too shall cool,—
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But cool in clearest crystals, set
For ever, like an amulet
Upon the whiteness of thine arm,
Fending from sorrow and from harm.—
For ever, like an amulet
Upon the whiteness of thine arm,
Fending from sorrow and from harm.—
I too have known thee: known thee young,
And blithe of heart and sweet of tongue;
Have watch'd thee, fair among thy peers,
Along the ever-brightening years
And blithe of heart and sweet of tongue;
Have watch'd thee, fair among thy peers,
Along the ever-brightening years
Till now: I know thee what thou art—
A woman with a woman's heart,
A heart of love, a face of calm,
And hallow'd, like a silent psalm.
A woman with a woman's heart,
A heart of love, a face of calm,
And hallow'd, like a silent psalm.
Therefore, O Lady,—whether thou
Have lisp'd that sacramental vow
That seals thee for a part of him,
Or whether, thy dark eyelids dim
Have lisp'd that sacramental vow
That seals thee for a part of him,
Or whether, thy dark eyelids dim
With earnest tears, thou waitest till
That bright melodious morn fulfil
Thy soul with joy, and from its nest
Unloose the circlet of thy breast,—
That bright melodious morn fulfil
Thy soul with joy, and from its nest
Unloose the circlet of thy breast,—
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I wish thee well: I would the year
Of life, whose vernal carols clear
Burst brilliant from thy marriage-bells,
May lightly leave the frosted cells,
Of life, whose vernal carols clear
Burst brilliant from thy marriage-bells,
May lightly leave the frosted cells,
With softest sunniest kisses woo
And warm the crisp cold spars to dew,
And drown the snows in happy showers
Of myrtle and of orange-flowers,
And warm the crisp cold spars to dew,
And drown the snows in happy showers
Of myrtle and of orange-flowers,
And lead thee thro' a ruddy prime
Of summer, to the far-off time
Of darkening floods and mellowing leaves:
Ah, Lady, who but half believes
Of summer, to the far-off time
Of darkening floods and mellowing leaves:
Ah, Lady, who but half believes
That Autumn, for thy soul and his,
Hath germs of fuller sympathies
And richer love-blooms, ever new,
In that fair Spring within the blue?
Hath germs of fuller sympathies
And richer love-blooms, ever new,
In that fair Spring within the blue?
And now, O tender one, no more
To shred thy darling blossoms o'er
Our paths, whene'er some wandering wind
Hath touch'd thy heart or swept thy mind,—
To shred thy darling blossoms o'er
Our paths, whene'er some wandering wind
Hath touch'd thy heart or swept thy mind,—
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Who centrest all those winning wiles—
That girlish growth of tears and smiles,
And all that made our fixt eyes swim,—
To one sweet kernel, all for him;
That girlish growth of tears and smiles,
And all that made our fixt eyes swim,—
To one sweet kernel, all for him;
Think not, when quite absorb'd within
That warmer atmosphere, wherein
True love doth burst her buds, and swells
Into the perfect flower, and bells
That warmer atmosphere, wherein
True love doth burst her buds, and swells
Into the perfect flower, and bells
And fairy bugles shoot, and gem
The smoothness of the central stem,—
That the set smile, the courteous grace,
The undying sunshine of the face,
The smoothness of the central stem,—
That the set smile, the courteous grace,
The undying sunshine of the face,
That make round Woman as she moves
A motive neighbourhood of loves—
That lit, as clear spring-dews the swathes
Of juicy grass, thy maiden paths,—
A motive neighbourhood of loves—
That lit, as clear spring-dews the swathes
Of juicy grass, thy maiden paths,—
Is all of Man: chivalrous souls
Do love the forms whereout there rolls
A truth—that all things cold and stern
Should melt and sweeten when they turn
Do love the forms whereout there rolls
A truth—that all things cold and stern
Should melt and sweeten when they turn
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Toward Woman; but the rest? They hire
Thrills of galvanic life to fire
Their dead shrunk veins when she is by;
And, wotting not the mystery
Thrills of galvanic life to fire
Their dead shrunk veins when she is by;
And, wotting not the mystery
And grace of her great womanhood,
Starve her on sops and pulp, the food
Of idiots,—till she haply learns
To love the taste,—yet inly burns
Starve her on sops and pulp, the food
Of idiots,—till she haply learns
To love the taste,—yet inly burns
With hatred of the thing she loves:—
Know thou, where'er the white moon moves
She looks on some who dwell alone—
Whose hearts not yet are chill'd to stone,
Know thou, where'er the white moon moves
She looks on some who dwell alone—
Whose hearts not yet are chill'd to stone,
Tho' Fashion with her gorgon-face
Doth hound them up the breezy chace,
And in the deep warm dells of life:
They live, and woo the ideal wife.
Doth hound them up the breezy chace,
And in the deep warm dells of life:
They live, and woo the ideal wife.
I see thy spirit through thine eyes—
I read thee gentle, true, and wise;
I hear thy heart's clear mellow chimes
Above the riot of the times;—
I read thee gentle, true, and wise;
I hear thy heart's clear mellow chimes
Above the riot of the times;—
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So haply, if, the while I pray
For blessings on thy wedding-day,
And crowd about thy future life
The full fruition of a wife,
For blessings on thy wedding-day,
And crowd about thy future life
The full fruition of a wife,
Thou wilt forgive me if I dare
To speak or sigh another prayer:—
What time in love thou garnerest
Thy tresses on thy husband's breast,
To speak or sigh another prayer:—
What time in love thou garnerest
Thy tresses on thy husband's breast,
Without a wish, or hope, or care,
Beyond the arms that fold thee there,—
That even then may sweetly rise
Some wandering moonlight from thine eyes,
Beyond the arms that fold thee there,—
That even then may sweetly rise
Some wandering moonlight from thine eyes,
And rest on others—yea, on me:
That thro' our spirits silently
A friendship calm and pure may move
And holy, like a lesser love.
That thro' our spirits silently
A friendship calm and pure may move
And holy, like a lesser love.
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