Dramatic Scenes :: :: University of Virginia Library

Dramatic Scenes

With Other Poems, Now First Printed. By Barry Cornwall [i.e. Bryan Waller Procter]. Illustrated

Cornwall, Barry (1787-1874)

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He is dead,—whom I trusted and loved
In my innocent youth;
Gave my heart to,—in times when I knew not
A lie from a truth.

354

I gave him my all; the things hid
In the cells of my heart;
My wealth: would you know what he did
For my good, on his part?

He robbed me;—he might have had all:
He smote me,—in vain:
I arose from the shock of my fall,
From the depths of my pain;

And I cried—“You have wronged me:—My life,
Love, and friendship I gave.
When you trembled and shrieked in the strife,
I was near you, to save.

But you stole from my arms the one prize
(Of my soul) that I won;
You ravished the light from my eyes,
The warmth from my sun:

So I slew you. In open mid-day,
We met, on the shore,
Where we met when our spirits were gay,
And all life was before.

I slew you—in open fair fight:
I clove thro' the brain
That so long had bewildered my sight;
That had stung me to pain.

355

I saw you, still firm in my wrath,
Fall dead on the sand;
And the last bloody (white and red) froth
Bubbled warm on my hand.

And now? do you sleep? Are you yet
In the pangs of your guilt?
For me, I have found no regret
For the blood I have spilt.

I enjoy, on the sands where we fought,
The fresh songs of the sea;
And I laugh, that my heart feeleth nought
Of poor pity for thee.”