Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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NOW WOULD I PLUNGE MY SOUL. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
NOW WOULD I PLUNGE MY SOUL.
Now would I plunge my Soul and Mind,
In reckless desperation blind,
In the last depth of worst despair,
And leap in Grief's dark tiger-lair.
In reckless desperation blind,
In the last depth of worst despair,
And leap in Grief's dark tiger-lair.
Now would I shuddering shrink away,
And shun the ills that day by day
Are crowding round my shadowy path,
All rough with terrors and with wrath!
And shun the ills that day by day
Are crowding round my shadowy path,
All rough with terrors and with wrath!
220
Do any thing but meet and bear
With Mind unbent, the Storms of care,
With steadfast Soul and governed Will
Antagonizing the adverse ill!
With Mind unbent, the Storms of care,
With steadfast Soul and governed Will
Antagonizing the adverse ill!
Do any thing but meet and bear
The griefs allotted to my share,
With meekness still, and patience sweet,
As the Heirs of Heavenly grace should meet!
The griefs allotted to my share,
With meekness still, and patience sweet,
As the Heirs of Heavenly grace should meet!
Do any thing but bear my doom
With firmness that must best become
Heaven's soldiers militant below,
Who pierce their way through clouds of woe.
With firmness that must best become
Heaven's soldiers militant below,
Who pierce their way through clouds of woe.
Who wait, in firm fixed hope, to hail
Beyond this misty, shadowy vale,
Their high reward—their mighty meed,
In worlds of joy and peace indeed!
Beyond this misty, shadowy vale,
Their high reward—their mighty meed,
In worlds of joy and peace indeed!
221
Who should, till that fair field as won,
Buckle the immortal armour on
Of faith, and zeal, and trustful Love,
And lift Hope's kindling eyes above!
Buckle the immortal armour on
Of faith, and zeal, and trustful Love,
And lift Hope's kindling eyes above!
Nor from the allotted struggles shrink,
Nor madly seek the fatal brink,
Nor put the bitter cup away,
Nor yield themselves Despair's weak prey.
Nor madly seek the fatal brink,
Nor put the bitter cup away,
Nor yield themselves Despair's weak prey.
Oh! I have ill endured and borne—
And now my grievous fault I mourn;
Yet lack the strength which pure minds share,
That fault to amend and to repair.
And now my grievous fault I mourn;
Yet lack the strength which pure minds share,
That fault to amend and to repair.
Weak, weak am I—as reeds are weak,
And now in reckless mood I seek
The extremity of dark Despair,
Now shun the lightest shock of care.
And now in reckless mood I seek
The extremity of dark Despair,
Now shun the lightest shock of care.
222
Now would I seek the shades of Death,
And fling myself unawed beneath
Adversity's destructive wheels,
And dread the touch that binds and heals.
And fling myself unawed beneath
Adversity's destructive wheels,
And dread the touch that binds and heals.
And now would I even thrust aside,
With weak Dismay or stubborn Pride,
The memory of the woe which wrings
My heart with poisoned poisoned stings!
With weak Dismay or stubborn Pride,
The memory of the woe which wrings
My heart with poisoned poisoned stings!
Oh! that I may at length be taught
To regulate each restless thought,
To temper, moderate, and controul
These changeful workings of my Soul!
To regulate each restless thought,
To temper, moderate, and controul
These changeful workings of my Soul!
Oh! that I could be taught at last,
To bide harsh Fortune's bitterest blast
With resignation firm and meek—
Nor vainly bold—nor vilely weak.
To bide harsh Fortune's bitterest blast
With resignation firm and meek—
Nor vainly bold—nor vilely weak.
223
Oh! that I could be taught at length
To arm my Soul with solemn strength,
To win a sacred fortitude
'Stead of this ever varying mood.
To arm my Soul with solemn strength,
To win a sacred fortitude
'Stead of this ever varying mood.
Then were I bless'd—how deeply bless'd—
With pauseless peace and rackless rest,
And with serene endurance mailed,
'Gainst ills that long have man assailed.
With pauseless peace and rackless rest,
And with serene endurance mailed,
'Gainst ills that long have man assailed.
Then were I bless'd—how nobly bless'd—
Of high and fearless strength possess'd,
And learning deeply evermore
To breast the storms I feared before.
Of high and fearless strength possess'd,
And learning deeply evermore
To breast the storms I feared before.
But not through mine own might can I
Thus gird myself with Victory;
No! I must look for aid above,
And trust to Heavenly grace and love.
Thus gird myself with Victory;
No! I must look for aid above,
And trust to Heavenly grace and love.
224
Alone through that Almighty Aid,
Can weary tremblers, long afraid,
Be taught at last to cast away
The burthen of their Soul's dismay.
Can weary tremblers, long afraid,
Be taught at last to cast away
The burthen of their Soul's dismay.
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |