Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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THIS CHANGED HEART. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
THIS CHANGED HEART.
This chang'd heart!—raging tempests have swept it,
In the world's waste 'tis one waste of gloom—
Yet! oh! yet, if thou wilt but accept it,
'Twill for thee be one Eden of bloom!
In the world's waste 'tis one waste of gloom—
Yet! oh! yet, if thou wilt but accept it,
'Twill for thee be one Eden of bloom!
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How did darkness and terrors surround it!—
How did wrath with fierce ravage despoil!
And how crushing the chain was that bound it!—
'Twas a serpent in death-straining coil!—
How did wrath with fierce ravage despoil!
And how crushing the chain was that bound it!—
'Twas a serpent in death-straining coil!—
Pierced its griefs as no life they might leave it,
Till it seem'd its own shadow of Death;
Yet, oh! yet, if thou wilt but receive it,
'Twill awake to Love's exquisite breath!
Till it seem'd its own shadow of Death;
Yet, oh! yet, if thou wilt but receive it,
'Twill awake to Love's exquisite breath!
Ah! how did it in heaviness languish!—
Every hope seem'd for ever destroy'd;
It still brooded alone in its anguish—
On the verge of Despair's gloomy void.
Every hope seem'd for ever destroy'd;
It still brooded alone in its anguish—
On the verge of Despair's gloomy void.
There were none in this world to console it,
'Twas approachless in grief and alone!—
But if thou wilt but deign to controul it,
It shall rise into raptures unknown!
'Twas approachless in grief and alone!—
But if thou wilt but deign to controul it,
It shall rise into raptures unknown!
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It shall soar on—from rapture to rapture,
And shall leave fear and memory behind;
Nor shall sorrows ere hope to recapture
The freed heart and the love-lighted mind!
And shall leave fear and memory behind;
Nor shall sorrows ere hope to recapture
The freed heart and the love-lighted mind!
Stronger far than those storms that o'erswept it,
Deeper still than those griefs that o'erflow'd—
Shall its love be, if thou wilt accept it—
And its care's-crushing burthen unload!
Deeper still than those griefs that o'erflow'd—
Shall its love be, if thou wilt accept it—
And its care's-crushing burthen unload!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |