The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
THE ANSWER |
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 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
THE ANSWER
Free, thou art free, rash changeling of the hour:
Why then farewell, and all at once farewell:
Pass from the hearth of this still breast for aye.
What should I speak? Thou know'st thyself, and I
Am darken'd by some fuller birth of smiles.
In her sweet hour I dwindle and recede:
There, if some thought of our once love intrude,
Stray dissonance, between the shrine and heart
Of long melodious concords, may it thrill
The honey'd sequel to a richer close.
Why then farewell, and all at once farewell:
Pass from the hearth of this still breast for aye.
What should I speak? Thou know'st thyself, and I
Am darken'd by some fuller birth of smiles.
In her sweet hour I dwindle and recede:
There, if some thought of our once love intrude,
Stray dissonance, between the shrine and heart
Of long melodious concords, may it thrill
The honey'd sequel to a richer close.
If this be well that we should greet no more,
Hereafter passing with incurious eyes,
Who held such state of our eternal love,
And deem'd, weak fools, that these our hearts were set
As near as bud to flower, as babe to breast;
And finish as we finished, fools of change,
To shake asunder meanly, at one touch,
For always, as an angry balsam seed
Leaps from its parent stem on alien winds.
Hereafter passing with incurious eyes,
Who held such state of our eternal love,
And deem'd, weak fools, that these our hearts were set
As near as bud to flower, as babe to breast;
And finish as we finished, fools of change,
To shake asunder meanly, at one touch,
For always, as an angry balsam seed
Leaps from its parent stem on alien winds.
I have had some wrong and I shall shed some tears.
I speak not of myself: let that go by.
We chide not on this melted light that rode
In arrogant pitch, soon overborne: new rays
Quench'd it like mist and all its heaven was bare.
I speak not of myself: let that go by.
We chide not on this melted light that rode
In arrogant pitch, soon overborne: new rays
Quench'd it like mist and all its heaven was bare.
28
Have I the heart to crush this dream and smile,
Nor let one errant thought's memorial flow
And shape the stream of what we might have been?
Have I the soul to shield my soul with scorn,
Like braggart men, the broken dupes of time,
Once reaching stars and lords of incident?
The dark road bends before me where I tread,
The arm that stay'd my spring, deserts my fall,
And I am lonely in the leafy winds,
And very lonely in the wasted year,
Grinding November wrecks on gusty skies,
And strengthless save one purpose to begone.
Nor let one errant thought's memorial flow
And shape the stream of what we might have been?
Have I the soul to shield my soul with scorn,
Like braggart men, the broken dupes of time,
Once reaching stars and lords of incident?
The dark road bends before me where I tread,
The arm that stay'd my spring, deserts my fall,
And I am lonely in the leafy winds,
And very lonely in the wasted year,
Grinding November wrecks on gusty skies,
And strengthless save one purpose to begone.
I rail not on the veering tyrant man,
Ape of all change, whose fierce inabstinence
Gulps at illusion, as with eager jaw
The barr'd fish loves the glitter of a rag.
Who, since most changeful of all breathing things,
Would rail against the unenduring rocks
And make their weather'd constancy his own.
Ape of all change, whose fierce inabstinence
Gulps at illusion, as with eager jaw
The barr'd fish loves the glitter of a rag.
Who, since most changeful of all breathing things,
Would rail against the unenduring rocks
And make their weather'd constancy his own.
Say you we part henceforward, and farewell?
The dumb slow days teach much and may teach thee.
Thrive on thy fill and rule the flowering time,
In stately roses under crowded bloom,
Wear down the mutinous echo of this wrong!
I turn, I raise towards fuller heights my eyes,
Farewell—since thou wilt have it—and farewell!
The dumb slow days teach much and may teach thee.
Thrive on thy fill and rule the flowering time,
In stately roses under crowded bloom,
Wear down the mutinous echo of this wrong!
I turn, I raise towards fuller heights my eyes,
Farewell—since thou wilt have it—and farewell!
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |