Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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I SAW THE SHIVERED GOBLET. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
431
I SAW THE SHIVERED GOBLET.
I saw the shivered goblet!—
From its crystal rim no more
Shall the blood-red wine at banquets
Stream, high-sparkling as before!
From its crystal rim no more
Shall the blood-red wine at banquets
Stream, high-sparkling as before!
I saw the fallen, dimmed mirror—
And I marked then as I passed,
How darkened and distorted
Were the images it glassed!
And I marked then as I passed,
How darkened and distorted
Were the images it glassed!
On the lyre, all crushed and shattered,
I looked with sorrowing eye;
Alas! for perished sweetness—
And forgotten melody.
I looked with sorrowing eye;
Alas! for perished sweetness—
And forgotten melody.
432
I saw the once-prized picture
With its changed and clouded hues,
Where the dimmed and faded features
Did all light of likeness lose!
With its changed and clouded hues,
Where the dimmed and faded features
Did all light of likeness lose!
And I saw the broken tablet—
Oh! hand never more shall trace
Words of passion's fire or feeling
On its rent and ruined face—
Oh! hand never more shall trace
Words of passion's fire or feeling
On its rent and ruined face—
And I saw the wreath all scattered,
Which no precious incense shed;
For the broken flowers were blighted,
Wan—withered—bloomless—dead.
Which no precious incense shed;
For the broken flowers were blighted,
Wan—withered—bloomless—dead.
The vase, in glistening fragments,
I looked on as it lay;
Never more to hold rich treasures,
As it did in bye-gone day!
I looked on as it lay;
Never more to hold rich treasures,
As it did in bye-gone day!
433
And I saw the chain of jewels,
With each rich link loosened—marred;
And a crushed and troubled splendour
Seemed that rainbowed band and starred!
With each rich link loosened—marred;
And a crushed and troubled splendour
Seemed that rainbowed band and starred!
I beheld the bow of battle,
Spoiled and broken—cast aside,
Never more with spear and banner
Might it take its place of pride!
Spoiled and broken—cast aside,
Never more with spear and banner
Might it take its place of pride!
And I saw the lamp lie shattered,
Where quick flame once quivering played,
When, from massive chain suspended,
Bright the festal hall it made!—
Where quick flame once quivering played,
When, from massive chain suspended,
Bright the festal hall it made!—
And for these fair things I sorrowed,
It was sad their change to mark;
Where was light, strength, music, beauty,
All was still—or frail—or dark!
It was sad their change to mark;
Where was light, strength, music, beauty,
All was still—or frail—or dark!
434
But a fresh thing claimed my sorrow,
(World!—how full of gloom thou art!)
Of all wrecks the chief, the mightiest!—
'Twas a crushed and broken heart!
(World!—how full of gloom thou art!)
Of all wrecks the chief, the mightiest!—
'Twas a crushed and broken heart!
Crystal goblet—flawed and shivered,
Fractured mirror—shattered lyre—
Ye are senseless—void of suffering—
Woe for stricken hearts of fire!
Fractured mirror—shattered lyre—
Ye are senseless—void of suffering—
Woe for stricken hearts of fire!
Faded picture—broken tablet,
Wreath and vase no longer fair;
All your various, separate ruins
Seem to meet and mingle there!
Wreath and vase no longer fair;
All your various, separate ruins
Seem to meet and mingle there!
From the crushed heart, freely never,
Shall the fiery fountain stream;
Not the wine that crowns the goblet
Erst might match its purple beam!
Shall the fiery fountain stream;
Not the wine that crowns the goblet
Erst might match its purple beam!
435
Never more, with proud reflection
Nature's glories shall it glass,
O'er its trampled mirror darkly
Shall each troubled image pass—
Nature's glories shall it glass,
O'er its trampled mirror darkly
Shall each troubled image pass—
And that living lyre of music,
Once by ruthless stroke destroyed—
Oh! no more its trembling pulses
Shall to sweet strains be up-buoyed!—
Once by ruthless stroke destroyed—
Oh! no more its trembling pulses
Shall to sweet strains be up-buoyed!—
That deep heart seemed one bright picture
Of creation's glorious things;
But with colours, dulled and faded,
No fair truthful trace it brings!—
Of creation's glorious things;
But with colours, dulled and faded,
No fair truthful trace it brings!—
On the bruised heart's broken tablet
Never characters of light
Shall be stamped in power and triumph—
And in Inspiration's might!
Never characters of light
Shall be stamped in power and triumph—
And in Inspiration's might!
436
Like a withered Wreath of Summer,
Seems it scorched up to the core—
Ne'er to shed round life and freshness—
Nor rich incense-breathings more
Seems it scorched up to the core—
Ne'er to shed round life and freshness—
Nor rich incense-breathings more
Like a sumptuous vase in fragments—
Never more shall it contain
A bright hoard of gathered treasures,
But forsaken shall remain.—
Never more shall it contain
A bright hoard of gathered treasures,
But forsaken shall remain.—
Like the loosened chain of jewels,
Marred in every precious part,
Crushed from all its costly beauty,
Lies the darkly-ruined heart!
Marred in every precious part,
Crushed from all its costly beauty,
Lies the darkly-ruined heart!
Like the mighty bow of battle—
Broken—broken—cast aside—
Helpless 'mid the strife and conflict—
Seemest thou, heart!—whose hope hath died.
Broken—broken—cast aside—
Helpless 'mid the strife and conflict—
Seemest thou, heart!—whose hope hath died.
438
Like the lamp—the fair lamp shivered,
That no more shall shed around
Festal light's rich sparkling splendours,
Thou'rt of flame and light uncrowned!
That no more shall shed around
Festal light's rich sparkling splendours,
Thou'rt of flame and light uncrowned!
Broken goblet, lyre, and mirror,
Tablet—picture, crushed and changed,
Wreath, and vase, and chain of jewels,
From your former pride estranged!
Tablet—picture, crushed and changed,
Wreath, and vase, and chain of jewels,
From your former pride estranged!
Bow of battle!—sounding arrow
That no more shall launch in power;
Lamp, fair lamp—whence light shall never
Stream again through festal hour!
That no more shall launch in power;
Lamp, fair lamp—whence light shall never
Stream again through festal hour!
O'er your heavy state I sorrowed,
E'er a sadder thing I found—
A fiery heart of fervent feeling,
Bleeding life out from its wound!
E'er a sadder thing I found—
A fiery heart of fervent feeling,
Bleeding life out from its wound!
437
That embraced a thousand sufferings,
In one deep and full despair—
All your several separate ruins
Seemed to meet and mingle there!
In one deep and full despair—
All your several separate ruins
Seemed to meet and mingle there!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |