Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton :: :: University of Virginia Library

220

Castle built in Spain,
At some lover's cost;—
Seek for key in vain;—
Key is lost.

Though you chide for all I do,
Yet am I in love with you.
Though you bid me to forget,
I shall love you—love you yet.

Though you trod upon my heart,
That the blood did gush and start,
I should answer, death until,
I forgive and love you still.

To forget? No; dream it not.
I by you shall be forgot;
You by me, howe'er you plan,
Never, never, never can.

221

Think you, minds with love that tremble
Wax or paper do resemble?
After various fashions fold?
Take a shape from every mould?

No; my soul did once reply
To the impress of a die;
Thenceforth never could it own
Any print save yours alone.

God forbid, indeed, indeed,
You from hurt like mine should bleed,
With the true love of your soul
Drained into a broken bowl!

Or that, weighed in such false scale
As wherein my love did fail,
Other's should with you succeed,
God forbid, indeed, indeed!

Was it well thus, in the trough
Of grief's sea to cast me off?
Bid me trust to some chance reef?
Leave me weltering in my grief?

222

Yet this by-you-caused distress
Cannot make me love you less;—
Noble, sure, the deed you do,
Seeing it is done by you.

So my high-esteeming breaks
Every bar your coolness makes,
And, whatever way you move,
Still I honour, still I love.

Yet, since grief to me appears
Worse in your than in my tears,
(For your sorrow mine must make
Twofold sorrow for your sake,)

Therefore nor in word nor mien
Henceforth shall my love be seen,
Nor with whatsoe'er I do
Will I ever trouble you;—

Ever gaze where I adore,
Where your face with smiles runs o'er;
Seek to quaff their generous wine,
Or to mix your soul with mine;—

223

No, I will not; nor yet seek
One poor friend-thought to bespeak;
I shall gaze where I adore
Never, never, never more.

So I go my way unblest,
With a heart whose wild unrest—
Never may its secret tell;—
Ah, my dear, farewell, farewell!

Fare you well! And be there said
God's best blessings o'er your head;—
Blessings of the heavenly steep
And the under-couching deep;

Blessings of the fruitful bough,
By the well-side prospering now;
(Ne'er could I have spoken thus
But for Him who died for us!)—

Blessings of the breasts,—ah me!—
Child-encradling arm and knee;—
All earth's bliss that can be given,
Not imperilling your heaven;—

224

Bliss to be still yours, my dear,
Wheresoe'er, with whomsoe'er;
Plenteous basket, bounteous store,
Yours, and theirs, for evermore.

As for me, I stiffen still
An unconquerable will;
To despair no inch shall give;
Hating life, go on to live.

Some day will God's reasons tell;
Some day He will break the spell
That has turned His universe
Glorious, to His creature's curse.

Though it cannot be conceived,
Yet it stands to be believed;
Breaking heart, so grief-beset,
God will bind, will heal it yet.

How, I cannot comprehend,
But, in some way, in the end,
He His miracle will give;—
God will teach me how to live.