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72
A VALEDICTION.
Life's garden stretched around you fair and wide,
Joy's clustered fruit to lure on every side,
Nor fruit nor flower to grasp of yours denied,—
Joy's clustered fruit to lure on every side,
Nor fruit nor flower to grasp of yours denied,—
Go, my fair Lydia, live your fleeting day;
Youth's cup of rapture, quaff it while you may;
Win love and waste it—who shall say you nay?
Youth's cup of rapture, quaff it while you may;
Win love and waste it—who shall say you nay?
Some hearts may ache for't; but are you to blame?
If daddy-long-legs with the taper's flame
Will dally—his the sorrow, hers the fame!
If daddy-long-legs with the taper's flame
Will dally—his the sorrow, hers the fame!
Yet in the giddy acme of success,
The vacant bosom may perchance confess
That pleasure is not always happiness.
The vacant bosom may perchance confess
That pleasure is not always happiness.
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And when, the vernal bloom of beauty sped,
And prudence whispers 'tis the time to wed,
Some noble roué waves you to his bed,
And prudence whispers 'tis the time to wed,
Some noble roué waves you to his bed,
Remember—nay, as best you can, forget!
Why should one tear of impotent regret
Dim the fine lustre of a coronet
Why should one tear of impotent regret
Dim the fine lustre of a coronet
So dearly bought? Yet, certes, after all,
Great though it seem, the price may be but small:
Your heart!—Has charming Lydia heart at all?
Great though it seem, the price may be but small:
Your heart!—Has charming Lydia heart at all?
And yet, ah, yet, there was a time you seemed
A creature sweet as ever Fancy dreamed:
So pure—so wise! You were not what I deemed.
A creature sweet as ever Fancy dreamed:
So pure—so wise! You were not what I deemed.
At least, you are not: shrunk the empyreal springs
Of thought and feeling; crushed the Psyche-wings
Of genius in the jar of vulgar things.
Of thought and feeling; crushed the Psyche-wings
Of genius in the jar of vulgar things.
And you, the young Egeria of my heart,
Once shrined in vestal purity apart,
Now hustle Clodia in her chosen mart.
Once shrined in vestal purity apart,
Now hustle Clodia in her chosen mart.
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While I who loved, and knew you, stand aside
And mark the flush of jealousy or pride
With which that now unshrinking cheek is dyed,
And mark the flush of jealousy or pride
With which that now unshrinking cheek is dyed,
If but some blasé, many-clodded bore—
To whose dulled sense even You are nothing more
Than the frail flutterer of the ball-room floor
To whose dulled sense even You are nothing more
Than the frail flutterer of the ball-room floor
You strive to seem (and but too well succeed!),
Withholds or yields you the contemptuous meed
Of his devotion. “Sorry sight,” indeed!
Withholds or yields you the contemptuous meed
Of his devotion. “Sorry sight,” indeed!
You, whose plumed spirit in youth's age of gold
Dwelt with the immortals: deigning scarce to hold
A moment's parle with one of meaner mould
Dwelt with the immortals: deigning scarce to hold
A moment's parle with one of meaner mould
Than those king-priests of wisdom, art, and song—
God's suffragans—who rule, serene and strong,
The sacred regions that to thought belong;
God's suffragans—who rule, serene and strong,
The sacred regions that to thought belong;
Whose words, far-echoing down the changeful years,
Mould the world's heart, that like a dreamer hears,
And answers in its sleep with shouts and tears,—
Mould the world's heart, that like a dreamer hears,
And answers in its sleep with shouts and tears,—
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Answers, and stirs, and rises in the might
Of noble purpose,—kindled by the light
Of some great thought—some poet's dream of right!
Of noble purpose,—kindled by the light
Of some great thought—some poet's dream of right!
But you have made your choice. Your future lies
Apart from these: why should I scrutinise
Your weakness with such microscopic eyes?
Apart from these: why should I scrutinise
Your weakness with such microscopic eyes?
Why, as in triumph, ring the passing bell
Of your life's promise? Why, in mockery, dwell
On what you were—and are not? So, farewell!
Of your life's promise? Why, in mockery, dwell
On what you were—and are not? So, farewell!
Farewell, farewell! The past was all so sweet,
I needs must grieve to see ignoble feet
Trample it thus; as in the roaring street
I needs must grieve to see ignoble feet
Trample it thus; as in the roaring street
Some rosebud that a lover's lips had prest,
Yet warm and dewy from a maiden's breast,
Is crushed to mire. Yet so, perchance, 'tis best:
Yet warm and dewy from a maiden's breast,
Is crushed to mire. Yet so, perchance, 'tis best:
Had the ideal memories of the past
Retained their magic splendour to the last,
Life must have withered in the shade they cast.
Retained their magic splendour to the last,
Life must have withered in the shade they cast.
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And so, once more, farewell! The maddening whirl
Of fashion drowns you—drinks you down, fair girl,
As Egypt's frenzied queen the priceless pearl
Of fashion drowns you—drinks you down, fair girl,
As Egypt's frenzied queen the priceless pearl
In her insatiate pride. So let it be!
In the “great world” fulfil your destiny—
Dead to your nobler self—dead evermore to me!
In the “great world” fulfil your destiny—
Dead to your nobler self—dead evermore to me!
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