Marcian Colonna An Italian Tale with Three Dramatic Scenes and Other Poems: By Barry Cornwall [i.e. Bryan Waller Procter] |
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MELANCHOLY |
 | Marcian Colonna |  |
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MELANCHOLY
There is a mighty Spirit, known on earthBy many names, tho' one alone becomes
Its mystery, its beauty, and its power.
It is not Fear,—'tis not the passive fear
That sinks before the future, nor the dark
Despondency that hangs upon the past:
Not the soft spirit that doth bow to pain,
Nor that which dreads itself, or slowly eats
Like a dull canker till the heart decays.
But in the meditative mind it lives,
Sheltered, caressed, and yields a great return;
And in the deep silent communion
Which it holds ever with the poet's soul,
Tempers, and doth befit him to obey
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It giveth answer in as proud a tone;
Or on its seat, the heart of man, receives
The gentler tidings of the elements.
I—often home returning from a spot
Holy to me from many wanderings,
Of fancy, or in fact, have felt the power
Of Melancholy stealing on my soul,
Mingling with pleasant images, and from
Sorrow dividing joy; until the shape
Of each did gather to a diviner hue,
And shone unclouded by a thought of pain.
Grief may sublime itself, and pluck the sting
From out its breast, and muse until it seem
Etherial, starry, speculative, wise.
But then it is that Melancholy comes,
Out charming grief—(as the gray morning stills
The tempest oft,) and from its fretful fire
Draws a pale light, by which we see ourselves,
The present, and the future, and the past.
| Marcian Colonna | |