Stanzas, by the Author of "Dunluce Castle" [i.e. Edward Quillinan] |
 |
| [Where art thou, Zelia! far from Him] |
 | Stanzas, by the Author of "Dunluce Castle" |  |
3
[Where art thou, Zelia! far from Him]
ZELIA.
Where art thou, Zelia! far from Him,
Whose pensive thought is ever thine?
Is Memory's lamp already dim?
Already vacant Memory's shrine?
Or does thy softer nature deign
Within that bosom's blessed nest
To let a Soldier's image rest,
In pity to the care, the pain,
With which his harrow'd soul is prest?
Whose pensive thought is ever thine?
Is Memory's lamp already dim?
Already vacant Memory's shrine?
Or does thy softer nature deign
Within that bosom's blessed nest
To let a Soldier's image rest,
In pity to the care, the pain,
With which his harrow'd soul is prest?
Or dost thou, lovely sceptic, still
Suspect a Rambler's wavering will?
And deem, as thou wert wont to say,
That like the Denizen of air,
Whose pinions float on every breeze,
Or Insect of the summer day,
That quits his curious waxen cave,
Through Nature's paradise to stray,
A Soldier wanders here and there,
And scorns to be the sober slave
Whom Constancy can ever seize?
Suspect a Rambler's wavering will?
And deem, as thou wert wont to say,
That like the Denizen of air,
Whose pinions float on every breeze,
Or Insect of the summer day,
That quits his curious waxen cave,
Through Nature's paradise to stray,
A Soldier wanders here and there,
And scorns to be the sober slave
Whom Constancy can ever seize?
'Tis true, the Bird, on frolic wing,
Will oft on Fancy's errand rove,
And many a note of folly sing
To distant tenants of the grove:
The Bee will ply his filmy sail
To waft him through a world of sweets,
And thus the perfumed breath inhale
Of every nectar-leaf he meets.
Yet will that Bird, his flight retrac'd,
Back to his native arbour turn:
Yet will this silken flutterer haste,
To rest within his humming Urn.
The Heart, sweet friend, of purest truth,
May thus that plumed wanton seem;
Or, buoyant on the tide of youth,
This Insect float on Pleasure's stream.
Yet after every wayward flight,
Or, after every voyage past,
'Twill with the fonder fervour light
Upon its Heart of Hearts at last.
And that once gain'd, how blissful then,
If there congenial warmth it find!
But worldly rules of worldly men
Too oft incrust the gem of mind;
And then the Heart indeed hath err'd;
And then it sinks beneath its lot,
Like Noah's weary wandering bird,
That sought the Ark and found it not.
Thy lips have often half confest,
Will oft on Fancy's errand rove,
4
To distant tenants of the grove:
The Bee will ply his filmy sail
To waft him through a world of sweets,
And thus the perfumed breath inhale
Of every nectar-leaf he meets.
Yet will that Bird, his flight retrac'd,
Back to his native arbour turn:
Yet will this silken flutterer haste,
To rest within his humming Urn.
The Heart, sweet friend, of purest truth,
May thus that plumed wanton seem;
Or, buoyant on the tide of youth,
This Insect float on Pleasure's stream.
Yet after every wayward flight,
Or, after every voyage past,
'Twill with the fonder fervour light
Upon its Heart of Hearts at last.
And that once gain'd, how blissful then,
If there congenial warmth it find!
But worldly rules of worldly men
Too oft incrust the gem of mind;
And then the Heart indeed hath err'd;
And then it sinks beneath its lot,
5
That sought the Ark and found it not.
(Perchance thine eyes have told the rest)
That he who urg'd Affection's plea,
Had haply to thy breast been dear,
But for the busy warning fear,
That said, upon the wing of change,
So warm a heart would frequent range,
While thine was weeping silently.
Wilt thou believe 'twas not the spark
Of young and inexperienc'd feeling,
Thy form of grace, thine eye of mind,
So madly tempted his revealing;
When, borne on Honour's fragile bark,
He tries the cure of wave and wind?
Wilt thou believe the steady beam
Was not a meteor's transient gleam,
When thou shalt know the sound of arms
Hath call'd him to a distant shore;
Where Zelia's smiles and Zelia's charms
Shall never, never tempt him more?
Wilt thou believe his breast was truth,
6
Some stroke of chance shall lay him low,
And he, ev'n then, in feeling's glow,
Shall sigh in vain for Zelia's hand,
To close the dying eyes of youth?
Those dying eyes, that latest sigh,
Shall look for Thee, shall breathe for Thee;
Shall breathe and look to Him on high,
That every blessing thine may be.
And thou wilt weep to hear the story
(For pity then thy heart will move)
Of one who died the death of glory,
That could not live the life of Love.
But when I see Thee weep for me,
As Memory may work to grieve Thee,
Why even then I will not leave Thee,
My Spirit still shall hover near Thee,
And with an angel's bliss to cheer Thee,
I'll steal from Heaven's most pure recess
The sweetest flower of blessedness,
Upon thy sweeter breast to lay;
And with Thee I will ever stay,
And cheer thee, lovely, lonely one,
Till earth, and heaven, and time be done!
| Stanzas, by the Author of "Dunluce Castle" | |