Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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SELF-COMMAND. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
SELF-COMMAND.
I check my thoughts—I hush my sighs,
My sorrows I controul
I dash the tears too from mine eyes,
And challenge mine own soul!
My sorrows I controul
I dash the tears too from mine eyes,
And challenge mine own soul!
And for a while—a little while,
I do right well succeed;
I can put on the feigned, forced smile,
Whose falsehood few can read!
I do right well succeed;
I can put on the feigned, forced smile,
Whose falsehood few can read!
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I can affect the joyous tone,
The words of folly say;—
And there is many a happy one
That seems but half as gay.—
The words of folly say;—
And there is many a happy one
That seems but half as gay.—
I can awhile succeed to throw
The mask and covering veil
Over the wildness of my woe,
Till none might guess my tale!
The mask and covering veil
Over the wildness of my woe,
Till none might guess my tale!
But can this last? oh! only while
The motive is supplied—
I check the sigh and force the smile
From woman's wounded pride.—
The motive is supplied—
I check the sigh and force the smile
From woman's wounded pride.—
But when I leave the joyous train—
I feel pride's little worth,
I sink into myself again!—
The unhappiest of the earth
I feel pride's little worth,
I sink into myself again!—
The unhappiest of the earth
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Again into myself I sink—
And am a wretch again;
And fit and fix e'en link by link,
My galling, crushing chain!
And am a wretch again;
And fit and fix e'en link by link,
My galling, crushing chain!
And, oh! to me 'tis a relief—
To take my burthen back,
And to return unto my grief,
So bitter and so black.
To take my burthen back,
And to return unto my grief,
So bitter and so black.
'Tis sweet relief for me to sink
Into my grief again;
From forced content my feelings shrink,
More than from very pain!
Into my grief again;
From forced content my feelings shrink,
More than from very pain!
I prize that pain!—each bursting sigh
Seems but to me too brief!—
So much I love my love that I
Must love my love-born grief!
Seems but to me too brief!—
So much I love my love that I
Must love my love-born grief!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |