University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Lays of Leisure Hours

By The Lady E. Stuart Wortley

collapse section 
  
collapse sectionI. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse sectionII. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
THE HEART'S HOPE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

THE HEART'S HOPE.

My heart—apart
Still watch—to snatch
Hope's smile awhile,
The fair—the rare
From sighs arise,
Forget regret,
Disdain thy pain,
Repress distress—

504

Hope's light shines bright
For all who call
Without weak doubt
On her, nor err—
Nor make mistake,
Nor deem a dream
Her scene, whose sheen
Seems given from Heaven!
That light spread bright
In love above
Our World—close furled
In gloom, one tomb—
Didst thou, ev'n now
Oh! Hope! faint droop—
And shun the Sun—
Nor throw thy glow
Thus even, o'er Heaven,
Nor deign thy train
To bring—and fling
O'er Day a ray—

505

A gleam supreme!
Heart, heart, apart
Now watch to snatch
That smile, whose wile
Can charm from harm,
Can win from sin,
Make fear appear
A thought—a nought—
Ideal—unreal,
And still with skill
Complete, most sweet
The thought, o'erfraught
With dreams—vain schemes—
(And woes that rose
To o'ercloud and shroud
The mind, resigned
To bear with care)—
Soothe down and crown
With blaze of rays
That shine divine.

506

My heart, now part
With fear, take cheer—
Be strong—for wrong
Are they who say
'Tis vain 'gainst pain
To strive—to drive
Away dismay—
Is't so?—no—no—
Proud Powers are ours
Would we but be
Unbowed and proud—
And choose to use
Those powers in hours
Of gloom and doom.—
Now heart, that art
So weak—or break,
Or rise from sighs—
And scorn to mourn—
Even so thy Woe,
Disdain, and Pain!—

507

And dare Despair!
Oh! meet and greet,
So face Disgrace,
'Twill melt unfelt
If thou but now
At length in strength
Defy—deny—
Nor deign the chain
To wear—the snare
For thee shall be
Ne'er set, though yet
'Twere well to dwell
Girt round and bound
With zeal—to steel
Thy core—once sore
With grief, and chief
To cling—faint thing!
To rocks which shocks
Of waves when raves
The gale, must fail

508

To rend or bend,
To break or shake!—
No shocks those rocks
Shall make to quake!—
Seas flow below,
Storm-scourged—fierce urged
In foam to come—
While death and wrath
Abound, around—
But Oh! below
If we can be
But taught—but brought
At last to cast
Our eyes where lies
Our goal!—the Soul
To free from thee,
Oh! Earth, whose dearth
We own, long known—
(Though long full strong
Its chain remain

509

Fast wound around
Our hearts—while smarts
With pain in vain
The breast oppressed,)
If we can be
But taught, our thought
To raise in days
Of fear, ev'n here,
In flights, to heights
Of Love above—
And found and ground
Our fair Hope there,
Even we may see
Storms sink, and shrink
That dread, thick spread
Before, even o'er
Our Souls (while rolls
Away from day
Each cloud whose shroud
Had bound it round—

510

The last—furled fast,
The worst—dispersed!)
And strong among
Earth's woes that close
Still thus round us
Shall we then be—
If so we throw
Our care but there
On High, and try
To grasp and clasp
Those Rocks which shocks
Of storms (whose Forms
Of dread are spread
Around) are found
Too weak to shake.
Oh! Heart!—your part
Is still to thrill
With love, and prove
The zeal you feel!—
No plaint though faint—

511

No sigh will I
Allow even now
To shame mine aim—
To chide my pride,
To daunt the vaunt
That fills and thrills
Inspires and fires
My thought, o'erwrought,
And Soul—the whole!—
I will fulfill
My part, and—Heart!
Teach thee to be
(Despite each blight
That may essay
To chill, to kill—
And joy destroy)
A thing whose spring
Ne'er dies, while Skies
Of Love above
Outshine divine—

512

Whose Light makes bright
This Life of strife!—
Those Dreams—whose streams
Flow free, shall be
No more traced o'er
With clouds, whose shrouds
Of old did fold
Them round, uncrowned—
Of pride—deep dyed
With gloom—dark doom!
No! plays Heaven's blaze
In light, thrice-bright—
Now round them crowned
With beams and gleams
That gild Life's field,
New given from Heaven!