Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
I, II, III. |
AWAY UNTO THE WOODLAND SCENES! |
Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | ||
AWAY UNTO THE WOODLAND SCENES!
Away unto the Woodland Scenes,
Where a boundless freedom reigns;
Away from worldly din and gloom,
And captivity and chains.
Where a boundless freedom reigns;
Away from worldly din and gloom,
And captivity and chains.
For they who in the world abide
Shall be evermore enslaved,
And bitter is the lot of him
Who e'er that world hath braved!
Shall be evermore enslaved,
And bitter is the lot of him
Who e'er that world hath braved!
224
The finger there is on the lip,
And the fetter on the hand,
We look and speak, and act and think,
But like the encircling band!
And the fetter on the hand,
We look and speak, and act and think,
But like the encircling band!
Our thoughts are their thoughts ever still,
And our words are echoes true—
'Twere madness or to feel or act
But as the others do.
And our words are echoes true—
'Twere madness or to feel or act
But as the others do.
Away, then, from the worldly din,
From the shadow and the strife—
Snatch fair gifts from the hand of Fate—
And taste the cup of Life!
From the shadow and the strife—
Snatch fair gifts from the hand of Fate—
And taste the cup of Life!
Away unto the Woodland Scenes,
Where joy in freedom reigns!
How can you rove the crushing crowd—
Captivity and chains?
Where joy in freedom reigns!
How can you rove the crushing crowd—
Captivity and chains?
225
How can ye bear to give away
Heaven's noblest gift august,
And fling Man's freewill at Man's feet,
Where trampled 'tis to dust!
Heaven's noblest gift august,
And fling Man's freewill at Man's feet,
Where trampled 'tis to dust!
No!—vindicate thy right—thy self—
Give the Great Soul its sway;
'Tis sad to see it wronged, debased,
And withering day by day!
Give the Great Soul its sway;
'Tis sad to see it wronged, debased,
And withering day by day!
'Tis sad to see it fastened down
At Custom's footstool vile,
Cramped with a thousand petty chains,
That stain it and defile.
At Custom's footstool vile,
Cramped with a thousand petty chains,
That stain it and defile.
Away to Nature's lofty scenes,
To the Mountain and the Wood—
That liberated Prisoner shall
Pronounce them fair and good.
To the Mountain and the Wood—
That liberated Prisoner shall
Pronounce them fair and good.
226
Away to Nature's holy haunts,
Where Truth with Freedom reigns—
Farewell! dull scenes of worldly gloom,
Captivity and chains!
Where Truth with Freedom reigns—
Farewell! dull scenes of worldly gloom,
Captivity and chains!
Away to where the river gleams,
The shadows dance and play—
The flowers bloom fair—the leaves glance green—
To Nature's scenes away!
The shadows dance and play—
The flowers bloom fair—the leaves glance green—
To Nature's scenes away!
I pant to breathe the fresh, fresh air,
'Twill give my Soul new life;
I pine to 'scape the din, the gloom,
The struggle, and the strife.
'Twill give my Soul new life;
I pine to 'scape the din, the gloom,
The struggle, and the strife.
Take me—Oh! take me, Nature, now,
And lay me on thy heart!
Great Mother of my Soul, to thee
I fly from sting and smart.
And lay me on thy heart!
Great Mother of my Soul, to thee
I fly from sting and smart.
227
No longer can I bear to wear
The hateful shroud and mask,
No longer can I bear to spell
The dull trite common task.
The hateful shroud and mask,
No longer can I bear to spell
The dull trite common task.
Sweet Mother of my Soul, I come
Beneath thy smile to dwell—
Pillow me on thy blessed lap,
For, Oh! I love thee well.
Beneath thy smile to dwell—
Pillow me on thy blessed lap,
For, Oh! I love thee well.
I love thee well—I love thee more
Than words can ever show—
Oh! save me, shield me from the strife,
The anguish and the woe.
Than words can ever show—
Oh! save me, shield me from the strife,
The anguish and the woe.
Not in the crowds would I remain,
Unfit am I to bear
The dull captivity and chains
Which there all hearts must share.
Unfit am I to bear
The dull captivity and chains
Which there all hearts must share.
228
I cannot stoop to give away
Heaven's loftiest gift sublime—
And yield the Freewill of my Soul,
'Twere madness—worse!—'twere crime!—
Heaven's loftiest gift sublime—
And yield the Freewill of my Soul,
'Twere madness—worse!—'twere crime!—
Away to Nature's haunts afar,
From turmoil and from wrath,
There shall I breathe the freshest air,
There tread the fairest path!
From turmoil and from wrath,
There shall I breathe the freshest air,
There tread the fairest path!
Away unto the woodland scenes,
Prepare, sweet birds, prepare
To welcome back a Soul set free,
With Mirth and Music there.
Prepare, sweet birds, prepare
To welcome back a Soul set free,
With Mirth and Music there.
Strew, strew my way, ye lovely flowers,
Strew my Triumphal Way!
I pant, I pine through freedom's paths
Once more in joy to stray!
Strew my Triumphal Way!
I pant, I pine through freedom's paths
Once more in joy to stray!
229
Free as the dance of light leaves there,
My thoughts in joy shall be,
And what are thoughts that like the wind
Are not unchained and free?
My thoughts in joy shall be,
And what are thoughts that like the wind
Are not unchained and free?
Away with doubt, and with its chill—
With slavery and its fear!
My heart hath, like a prisoned bird,
Lost its sweet song-notes here!
With slavery and its fear!
My heart hath, like a prisoned bird,
Lost its sweet song-notes here!
Distraction's turmoil evermore
Accompanies my way;
Oh! to roam free as eagles are,
Throughout the live-long day!
Accompanies my way;
Oh! to roam free as eagles are,
Throughout the live-long day!
Away unto the woodland scenes—
To flowers, birds, leaves, and light!
For all of Nature's beauty now
Is blessed in my sight!
To flowers, birds, leaves, and light!
For all of Nature's beauty now
Is blessed in my sight!
230
How can man e'er consent to lose
In crowds her fair gifts all?
To waste their lives—to waste their thoughts—
Themselves—their souls in thrall?
In crowds her fair gifts all?
To waste their lives—to waste their thoughts—
Themselves—their souls in thrall?
Still day by day we thus become
More wretched and more mean,
Till ofttimes all unfit to roam
In Nature's purer scene!
More wretched and more mean,
Till ofttimes all unfit to roam
In Nature's purer scene!
Her voice should startle and dismay,
And her aspect shock the Soul—
While art and dull monotony
Possess—and crush the whole!
And her aspect shock the Soul—
While art and dull monotony
Possess—and crush the whole!
Not like the Prodigal's return
Shall be the worldling's then;
Our own faults we may well repent,
Not those of other men.
Shall be the worldling's then;
Our own faults we may well repent,
Not those of other men.
231
And e'en—very faults are learned—
Copied with closest care,
Until we fancy these indeed
Are virtues pure and fair.
Copied with closest care,
Until we fancy these indeed
Are virtues pure and fair.
Perverted judgments—thoughts—perplexed—
Confusing wrong and right—
These are the deadliest ills and banes
Which can our spirits blight!
Confusing wrong and right—
These are the deadliest ills and banes
Which can our spirits blight!
We cannot then retrack our way,
We know not to repent—
We press on in the self same path,
In dark entanglement.
We know not to repent—
We press on in the self same path,
In dark entanglement.
We cannot feel remorse for things
We deem are just and right;
And all the time our very Souls
Are ruined by the blight.
We deem are just and right;
And all the time our very Souls
Are ruined by the blight.
232
Our feelings cold and loveless grow,
Hardened our deepest hearts,
Our words are wiles—our looks are masks,
Our very thoughts are arts!
Hardened our deepest hearts,
Our words are wiles—our looks are masks,
Our very thoughts are arts!
Ushered to Nature's presence then,
A faint and vague dismay
Should seize on our unconscious minds,
That far have gone astray.
A faint and vague dismay
Should seize on our unconscious minds,
That far have gone astray.
Unconscious still, and yet aware
Of something that but ill
Accordeth with that presence pure,
And high and glorious still.
Of something that but ill
Accordeth with that presence pure,
And high and glorious still.
Something that doth not in her peace,
Nor her purity rejoice—
That trembleth and that shrinketh back
From her commanding voice!
Nor her purity rejoice—
That trembleth and that shrinketh back
From her commanding voice!
233
But to her lofty presence yet
With rapture I repair;
Oh! bless'd assurance to my Soul
That the poison is not there!
With rapture I repair;
Oh! bless'd assurance to my Soul
That the poison is not there!
To her high places I repair,
And to her presence pure;
And hath that Soul escaped the brand,
The infection—and the lure?
And to her presence pure;
And hath that Soul escaped the brand,
The infection—and the lure?
Oh! joy! true joy! I yet shall move
Where boundless freedom reigns;
I yet shall move in gladness, freed
From captivity and chains.
Where boundless freedom reigns;
I yet shall move in gladness, freed
From captivity and chains.
I bring back to the woodland haunts
A wounded wearied heart;
But one unstained and undebased
By slavery and by art
A wounded wearied heart;
But one unstained and undebased
By slavery and by art
234
I bring back to the Sylvan scenes
A wrung and wasted mind;
Yet full of feelings that ere long
Their wonted strength shall find.
A wrung and wasted mind;
Yet full of feelings that ere long
Their wonted strength shall find.
I bring back Hope, Faith, Zeal, and Love,
And of my Soul I bring
The unconquered and the uncrushed Free Will—
A high Heaven-honoured thing!
And of my Soul I bring
The unconquered and the uncrushed Free Will—
A high Heaven-honoured thing!
Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | ||