The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth With Sixteen Illustrations. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton |
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EDEN. |
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190
EDEN.
One evening at a noble's house I left
The old Lord with his wine, and wandered forth
Upon the lawn, between the summer trees,
Whose hoary trunks upon the shaven green
Cast shadows, lengthening eastward as the sun
Shone through the lower leaves. I followed on
A winding walk that led me through the shrubs
Across a rustic bridge, until I came
Into a cool and shady wilderness;
From which emerging on an open space,
I looked around me, seeking anxiously,
For there I hoped to find my mistress Eve.
The old Lord with his wine, and wandered forth
Upon the lawn, between the summer trees,
Whose hoary trunks upon the shaven green
Cast shadows, lengthening eastward as the sun
Shone through the lower leaves. I followed on
A winding walk that led me through the shrubs
Across a rustic bridge, until I came
Into a cool and shady wilderness;
From which emerging on an open space,
I looked around me, seeking anxiously,
For there I hoped to find my mistress Eve.
It was a garden sheltered by tall woods
On three sides of its square; but on the fourth,
There was a terrace broad, with balustrades
Of sculptured stone enclosed, and all its length
Vases o'erflowed with flowers. A hedge of yew
Was all the garden's inner boundary,
A solid wall of rich and sombre green.
Against it shone fair statues. In the midst
Sprang a tall fountain from a lucent pool,
Where fish with golden scales were swimming round.
My love was walking by her fragrant beds,
Dark with the morning's rain; and when we met
She showed me all her roses, some with buds
Half-opened to the kisses of the sun,
Amongst the clusters of the full-blown flowers,
Like younger sisters in a crowd of dames.
My love was full of life and cheerfulness,
And laughing, talked about her books and flowers;
But I was silent, for I worshipped her,
And followed closely where her garment's hem
Did consecrate the ground. At last she led
Into a temple, and before a group—
Cupid and Psyche—there we stood and watched
Between the pillars of the portico
The sunset in the park. The time alone
Unloosed my heart, and through my fervent lips
Poured out what Love made almost eloquent.
I spoke in poems with such utter truth,
As strangely broke my cold reserve of state;
I dared not look into those beaming eyes
That well I knew were looking up to mine;
But steadfastly I gazed upon the clouds
That glowed between the uplands, where the does
Stood round the sultan stag. “The sun is gone,”
She whispered; and I drew her to a couch,
And there we sat and looked upon the pair
Whose lips were joined in one eternal kiss.
There, in the twilight, stood their lovely forms;
And where the light foot of the maiden pressed
The plinth on which they stood, bright Hesperus
Rose trembling in the mist. Then as I spoke
About those wondrous statues and their love,
My voice grew faint and low, but passionately
I talked at last in whispers not unheard.
Then we were still and silent as that pair.
No! for our hearts were beating—theirs were cold.
Her eyes, too, had a swimming loveliness,
Better than Psyche's white and polished orbs;
And warm and soft was her delicious lip,
So that I think Dan Cupid envied me.
On three sides of its square; but on the fourth,
There was a terrace broad, with balustrades
Of sculptured stone enclosed, and all its length
191
Was all the garden's inner boundary,
A solid wall of rich and sombre green.
Against it shone fair statues. In the midst
Sprang a tall fountain from a lucent pool,
Where fish with golden scales were swimming round.
My love was walking by her fragrant beds,
Dark with the morning's rain; and when we met
She showed me all her roses, some with buds
Half-opened to the kisses of the sun,
Amongst the clusters of the full-blown flowers,
Like younger sisters in a crowd of dames.
My love was full of life and cheerfulness,
And laughing, talked about her books and flowers;
But I was silent, for I worshipped her,
And followed closely where her garment's hem
Did consecrate the ground. At last she led
Into a temple, and before a group—
Cupid and Psyche—there we stood and watched
Between the pillars of the portico
The sunset in the park. The time alone
Unloosed my heart, and through my fervent lips
Poured out what Love made almost eloquent.
I spoke in poems with such utter truth,
As strangely broke my cold reserve of state;
I dared not look into those beaming eyes
That well I knew were looking up to mine;
But steadfastly I gazed upon the clouds
192
Stood round the sultan stag. “The sun is gone,”
She whispered; and I drew her to a couch,
And there we sat and looked upon the pair
Whose lips were joined in one eternal kiss.
There, in the twilight, stood their lovely forms;
And where the light foot of the maiden pressed
The plinth on which they stood, bright Hesperus
Rose trembling in the mist. Then as I spoke
About those wondrous statues and their love,
My voice grew faint and low, but passionately
I talked at last in whispers not unheard.
Then we were still and silent as that pair.
No! for our hearts were beating—theirs were cold.
Her eyes, too, had a swimming loveliness,
Better than Psyche's white and polished orbs;
And warm and soft was her delicious lip,
So that I think Dan Cupid envied me.
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