 | The poems and stories of Fitz-James O'Brien |  |
23
A FALLEN STAR.
I.
I sauntered home across the park,
And slowly smoked my last cigar;
The summer night was still and dark,
With not a single star:
And slowly smoked my last cigar;
The summer night was still and dark,
With not a single star:
And, conjured by I know not what,
A memory floated through my brain,
The vision of a friend forgot,
Or thought of now with pain.
A memory floated through my brain,
The vision of a friend forgot,
Or thought of now with pain.
A brilliant boy that once I knew,
In far-off, happy days of old,
With sweet, frank face, and eyes of blue,
And hair that shone like gold:
In far-off, happy days of old,
With sweet, frank face, and eyes of blue,
And hair that shone like gold:
Fresh crowned with college victory,
The boast and idol of his class,—
With heart as pure, and warm, and free
As sunshine on the grass!
The boast and idol of his class,—
With heart as pure, and warm, and free
As sunshine on the grass!
A figure sinewy, lithe, and strong,
A laugh infectious in its glee,
A voice as beautiful as song,
When heard along the sea.
A laugh infectious in its glee,
A voice as beautiful as song,
When heard along the sea.
On me, the man of sombre thought,
The radiance of his friendship won,
As round an autumn tree is wrought
The enchantment of the sun.
The radiance of his friendship won,
As round an autumn tree is wrought
The enchantment of the sun.
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He loved me with a tender truth,
He clung to me as clings the vine,
And, like a brimming fount of youth,
His nature freshened mine.
He clung to me as clings the vine,
And, like a brimming fount of youth,
His nature freshened mine.
Together hand in hand we walked;
We threaded pleasant country ways,
Or, couched beneath the limes, we talked,
On sultry summer days.
We threaded pleasant country ways,
Or, couched beneath the limes, we talked,
On sultry summer days.
For me he drew aside the veil
Before his bashful heart that hung,
And told a sweet, ingenuous tale
That trembled on his tongue.
Before his bashful heart that hung,
And told a sweet, ingenuous tale
That trembled on his tongue.
He read me songs and amorous lays,
Where through each slender line a fire
Of love flashed lambently, as plays
The lightning through the wire.
Where through each slender line a fire
Of love flashed lambently, as plays
The lightning through the wire.
A nobler maid he never knew
Than she he longed to call his wife;
A fresher nature never grew
Along the shores of life.
Than she he longed to call his wife;
A fresher nature never grew
Along the shores of life.
Thus rearing diamond arches up
Whereon his future life to build,
He quaffed all day the golden cup
That youthful fancy filled.
Whereon his future life to build,
He quaffed all day the golden cup
That youthful fancy filled.
Like fruit upon a southern slope,
He ripened on all natural food,—
The winds that thrill the skyey cope,
The sunlight's golden blood:
He ripened on all natural food,—
The winds that thrill the skyey cope,
The sunlight's golden blood:
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And in his talk I oft discerned
A timid music vaguely heard;
The fragments of a song scarce learned,
The essays of a bird,—
A timid music vaguely heard;
The fragments of a song scarce learned,
The essays of a bird,—
The first faint notes the poet's breast,
Ere yet his pinions warrant flight,
Will, on the margin of the nest,
Utter with strange delight.
Ere yet his pinions warrant flight,
Will, on the margin of the nest,
Utter with strange delight.
Thus rich with promise was the boy,
When, swept abroad by circumstance,
We parted,—he to live, enjoy,
And I to war with chance.
When, swept abroad by circumstance,
We parted,—he to live, enjoy,
And I to war with chance.
II.
The air was rich with fumes of wine
When next we met. 'T was at a feast,
And he, the boy I thought divine,
Was the unhallowed priest.
When next we met. 'T was at a feast,
And he, the boy I thought divine,
Was the unhallowed priest.
There was the once familiar grace,
The old, enchanting smile was there;
Still shone around his handsome face
The glory of his hair.
The old, enchanting smile was there;
Still shone around his handsome face
The glory of his hair.
But the pure beauty that I knew
Had lowered through some ignoble task;
Apollo's head was peering through
A drunken bacchant's mask.
Had lowered through some ignoble task;
Apollo's head was peering through
A drunken bacchant's mask.
The smile, once honest as the day,
Now waked to words of grossest wit;
The eyes, so simply frank and gay,
With lawless fires were lit.
Now waked to words of grossest wit;
26
With lawless fires were lit.
He was the idol of the board;
He led the careless, wanton throng;
The soul that once to heaven had soared
Now grovelled in a song.
He led the careless, wanton throng;
The soul that once to heaven had soared
Now grovelled in a song.
He wildly flung his wit away
In small retort, in verbal brawls,
And played with words as jugglers play
With hollow brazen balls.
In small retort, in verbal brawls,
And played with words as jugglers play
With hollow brazen balls.
But often when the laugh was loud,
And highest gleamed the circling bowl,
I saw what unseen passed the crowd,—
The shadow on his soul.
And highest gleamed the circling bowl,
I saw what unseen passed the crowd,—
The shadow on his soul.
And soon the enigma was unlocked;
The harrowing history I heard,—
The sacred duties that he mocked,
The forfeiture of word.
The harrowing history I heard,—
The sacred duties that he mocked,
The forfeiture of word.
And how he did his love a wrong—
His wild remorse—his mad career—
And now—ah! hearken to that song,
And hark the answering cheer!
His wild remorse—his mad career—
And now—ah! hearken to that song,
And hark the answering cheer!
III.
Thus musing sadly on the law
That lets such brilliant meteors quench,
Down the dark path a form I saw
Uprising from a bench.
That lets such brilliant meteors quench,
Down the dark path a form I saw
Uprising from a bench.
27
Ragged and pale, in strident tones
It asked for alms,—I knew for what;
The tremor shivering through its bones
Was eloquent of the sot.
It asked for alms,—I knew for what;
The tremor shivering through its bones
Was eloquent of the sot.
It begged, it prayed, it whined, it cried,
It followed with a shuffling tramp,—
It would not, could not be denied,—
I turned beneath a lamp.
It followed with a shuffling tramp,—
It would not, could not be denied,—
I turned beneath a lamp.
It clutched the coins I gave, and fled
With muttered words of horrid glee,
When, like the white, returning dead,
A vision rose to me.
With muttered words of horrid glee,
When, like the white, returning dead,
A vision rose to me.
A nameless something in its air,
A sudden gesture as it moved,—
'T was he, the gay, the debonnaire!
'T was he, the boy I loved!
A sudden gesture as it moved,—
'T was he, the gay, the debonnaire!
'T was he, the boy I loved!
And while along the lonesome park
The eager drunkard sped afar,
I looked to heaven, and through the dark
I saw a falling star!
The eager drunkard sped afar,
I looked to heaven, and through the dark
I saw a falling star!
| The poems and stories of Fitz-James O'Brien | |