 | Judith, Esther, and other poems |  |
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TO ONE, who had taken laudanum to enliven himself.
And canst thou thus, my Edwin, woo thy doom
When there are those who prize thy life so dearly,
Because a transient gloom obscures thy soul,
And thy pulse beats not to its wonted time?
Mad pleasure's throb we may not always know:—
The heart's bright ruby streams would burst their bourns
And struggling life sink in the wild disorder.
Or should the strength of Nature's works resist
And firmly stand besieging dissolution,
Soon would the heated mind become a waste,
Like those vast plains beneath the burning line.
Each flower that fair affection rears would die;
Pure Virtue's springs yield up their last sweet drop,
While on their barren shores the reptile vice
Would hide her evil egg, and to the ray
Call forth with fœtid hiss her writhing young.
When there are those who prize thy life so dearly,
Because a transient gloom obscures thy soul,
And thy pulse beats not to its wonted time?
Mad pleasure's throb we may not always know:—
The heart's bright ruby streams would burst their bourns
And struggling life sink in the wild disorder.
Or should the strength of Nature's works resist
And firmly stand besieging dissolution,
Soon would the heated mind become a waste,
Like those vast plains beneath the burning line.
Each flower that fair affection rears would die;
Pure Virtue's springs yield up their last sweet drop,
While on their barren shores the reptile vice
Would hide her evil egg, and to the ray
Call forth with fœtid hiss her writhing young.
Shame! if perchance thy spirits droop, arise!
Drink the young blooming morning's fragrant breath,
Then haste, all glowing with her rosy light,
Take the dear harp thou know'st to touch so sweetly,
And while the heaving ocean kisses heaven,
Whose hues empurpled veil the radiant star,
Pour forth a lay of gratitude and love.
So shall some blue-eyed, white-winged angel hear
And all the live-long day watch and protect thee.
Or (can it please thee better?) lie thou long,
Wasted and languid on the late-sought couch.
And when the hour inert grows too oppressive,
Slowly arise enervate, and with hand
That trembling does its office, faintly reach
Th' infernal poppy's black and baleful juice.
The which I ne'er behold, but a cold corse
All grim with poison, from its bed impure
Rises distinct to fright my shrinking fancy.
Drink the young blooming morning's fragrant breath,
Then haste, all glowing with her rosy light,
Take the dear harp thou know'st to touch so sweetly,
And while the heaving ocean kisses heaven,
Whose hues empurpled veil the radiant star,
Pour forth a lay of gratitude and love.
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And all the live-long day watch and protect thee.
Or (can it please thee better?) lie thou long,
Wasted and languid on the late-sought couch.
And when the hour inert grows too oppressive,
Slowly arise enervate, and with hand
That trembling does its office, faintly reach
Th' infernal poppy's black and baleful juice.
The which I ne'er behold, but a cold corse
All grim with poison, from its bed impure
Rises distinct to fright my shrinking fancy.
No, Edwin, no! thou wert not formed for this,
For I have heard such accents from thy lips
As sure a soul polluted could not dictate.
Then guard thy heart susceptible and learn
To love such calm delights as hide not death.
For I have heard such accents from thy lips
As sure a soul polluted could not dictate.
Then guard thy heart susceptible and learn
To love such calm delights as hide not death.
Think of a matron who, like Virtue's self,
Grows lovelier from having known her long;
Whose brightly beaming eye and dulcet voice
Heightens thy filial love to adoration;
Whom even Time admires, and will not touch
Rudely enough to leave his cruel traces.
Think of the hour that gave thee to her arms
When her soft form had scarcely banished childhood.
Think with what joy she clasped thee to her heart,
Just entering on a world, till then unknown,
Of new and dear emotion, wordless bliss.
Think how thou trembled'st in her raptured arms
That feared to hurt thee with their warm embrace,
While heaven-refined, swift coursing through her veins
The sweet draught sought thy lip, by heaven instructed.
Think how her love could meet thine early doom,
And scorn not the remonstrance of a friend.
Grows lovelier from having known her long;
Whose brightly beaming eye and dulcet voice
Heightens thy filial love to adoration;
Whom even Time admires, and will not touch
Rudely enough to leave his cruel traces.
Think of the hour that gave thee to her arms
When her soft form had scarcely banished childhood.
Think with what joy she clasped thee to her heart,
Just entering on a world, till then unknown,
Of new and dear emotion, wordless bliss.
31
That feared to hurt thee with their warm embrace,
While heaven-refined, swift coursing through her veins
The sweet draught sought thy lip, by heaven instructed.
Think how her love could meet thine early doom,
And scorn not the remonstrance of a friend.
| Judith, Esther, and other poems | |