Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

I fain would flee back to the days
When first I hail'd Love's dawning rays!
Run through their pleasure and their pain,—
And live my whole Love o'er again!

I fain would watch, as then I did,
Deep in my soul's far centre hid,
That passion like some bright flower blow,
And spring, and spread, and hourly grow.

And I would live through every hour
That saw the unfolding of its power;
Even from the first unto the last,
And live again through that sweet Past!

194

Aye! live my whole Love o'er again,
Its every pleasure—every pain—
And through its rapturous stages run—
Hail the first dawning of that Sun!

Not half, not half enough I prized,
(Though still, even then, I idolized!)
Those bright beginnings of Delight—
Now more than precious in my sight.

Oh! now doth it appear to me—
I looked on these too slightingly;
It seemeth now to my rapt thought
I could not prize them as I ought!

How every feeling as it rose,—
What value now my full heart knows—
Brought with it promises supreme,
Which yet 'twas mighty to redeem!

195

When first we love—we know not all
The blessings that from love shall fall:—
We are not of its strength aware—
It seems a mystery vague and fair!

We little think how full, how deep,
A harvest yet we thence shall reap;—
We little know how vast, how great,
The joys wherewith 'twill crown our fate!

That stranger-guest the soul receives,
Nor half his power suspects, believes:
So oft at first the Sun doth rise,
In mists half-shrouded from our eyes.

Then hath fair day another dawn—
When slow those pale mists shrink, withdrawn;
And light grows lovelier, as its Lord
Shines forth—the welcomed and the adored!

196

He rises on us, ray by ray,
Breaking through clouds to perfect day—
And when indeed that sun shines forth,
The Light attaineth lovelier worth.—

He toucheth dark thick Woods that turn
To splendour, and enkindling burn—
With golden glitterings, mid their green;
A gladsome and a glorious scene.

He toucheth too the slumbering Sea,
That mighty giant instantly—
Girds on, right glorious to behold—
Armour of purple and of gold!

But in the cold, gray, dubious dawn—
(Or e'en before such mist's withdrawn,
Spread round the Enchanter) who would dream,
Of dazzling triumphs so supreme?

197

The cold, grey dawn goes deepening on,
Till every dream and doubt is gone—
Then beauteous spreads the stainless light,
To be more beauteous still and bright!

When morning's mantling mists retire,
Day dawns again!—one globe of fire!—
Flames the broad sky—the air's a blaze—
Light breaks thrice-glorious on our gaze!

Oh! Love hath thus his dawn, his mists—
We first scarce know that he exists—
The soul's transpierced with his deep light,
Before himself stands forth to sight.

With his deep light the soul's o'erflowed,
Ere she may know whence 'tis bestowed:
First comes his dawn—and then his day—
His Sun exults in boundless sway!

198

Himself, ere his full State's unrolled,
He clothes in purple sheen and gold—
Life's streams then stooping brightly nigher,
Makes the lit World a globe of fire!—

Oh! Love's first days! could I speed back,
Following your fair and happy track—
How should I prize, with conscious thought,
Your opening prospects as I ought!

Blessed beginnings of delight!—
How should I weigh your worth aright!—
Could I but break Time's crushing chain,
And live my whole Love o'er again!—

Fain would I watch, as then I did,
Far in my soul's deep centre hid,
Thee—Passion, like some bright flower grow,
From bloom to bloom—and burst and blow.

199

No! not as then as I watched, my heart,
Scarce knowing, dreaming all thou art—
Received thee in its deep recess—
In shadowy half-unconsciousness!