Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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THE FESTIVAL. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
THE FESTIVAL.
There were thousand garlands twining
In the festal hall that night,
And a thousand bright lamps shining,
Made a sweeping sea of light!
In the festal hall that night,
And a thousand bright lamps shining,
Made a sweeping sea of light!
And fawn-like steps were bounding,
With light grace and mirthful cheer—
And joyous music sounding,
Thrill'd in sweetness on the ear!
With light grace and mirthful cheer—
And joyous music sounding,
Thrill'd in sweetness on the ear!
452
From face to face there turning—
All with smiles of pleasure drest—
You beheld no trace of mourning;
Grief were there no welcome guest!
All with smiles of pleasure drest—
You beheld no trace of mourning;
Grief were there no welcome guest!
And methought!—“Oh! mirth and gladness,
Ye have made these hearts your own;
Surely ne'er by them hath sadness
In its spring-tide flow been known!”
Ye have made these hearts your own;
Surely ne'er by them hath sadness
In its spring-tide flow been known!”
Surely none now here assembled
Have in bitter anguish wept!—
O'er the living Dying, trembled—
O'er the lifeless Slumberer wept!
Have in bitter anguish wept!—
O'er the living Dying, trembled—
O'er the lifeless Slumberer wept!
Surely none, 'midst those here gathered
In this bright and joyous throng,
Have affliction's bleak storm weathered,
The terrible and strong!
In this bright and joyous throng,
Have affliction's bleak storm weathered,
The terrible and strong!
453
None that now I see before me
Have e'er felt the chilling weight
Of such clouds as have poured o'er me,
And obscured my hopeless fate!”
Have e'er felt the chilling weight
Of such clouds as have poured o'er me,
And obscured my hopeless fate!”
Then a deeper thought struck keenly,
My vain-pondering, dreaming heart;
And I felt—I too serenely
Am now bearing here my part!
My vain-pondering, dreaming heart;
And I felt—I too serenely
Am now bearing here my part!
My step too is free and springing,
And my face in smiles arrayed;
And have I ne'er felt Grief's stinging—
Bowed beneath her funeral shade?
And my face in smiles arrayed;
And have I ne'er felt Grief's stinging—
Bowed beneath her funeral shade?
Oh! but I have known all Sorrows—
That walk earth like shadowy powers;
And yet my bruised heart e'en borrows
A bright cheer from festal hours!
That walk earth like shadowy powers;
And yet my bruised heart e'en borrows
A bright cheer from festal hours!
454
Then, amidst the many round me—
Ah! perchance there is not one,
From the chain of grief which bound me,
That on earth hath walked free—none!
Ah! perchance there is not one,
From the chain of grief which bound me,
That on earth hath walked free—none!
Well, well it is we smother
Such secrets, dark and vain—
And hide still from each other
The mysteries of our pain!
Such secrets, dark and vain—
And hide still from each other
The mysteries of our pain!
If 'twere not for such concealing,
'Twere a world of sevenfold woe;
And one universal feeling
Of despair should spread below!
'Twere a world of sevenfold woe;
And one universal feeling
Of despair should spread below!
But our grief—we seek to entomb it—
With a nice and jealous pride;
And full often half o'ercome it,
While we strive e'en thus to hide!
With a nice and jealous pride;
And full often half o'ercome it,
While we strive e'en thus to hide!
455
While we struggle hard to veil it—
To no eye, no strange eye shown,
(Ceasing, ceasing to bewail it,)
We oft shroud it from our own!
To no eye, no strange eye shown,
(Ceasing, ceasing to bewail it,)
We oft shroud it from our own!
We bury in earth's bosom
Our departed ones—our Dead—
In our own we tomb each blossom
Of fallen Hope, whose life hath fled!
Our departed ones—our Dead—
In our own we tomb each blossom
Of fallen Hope, whose life hath fled!
And 'tis well, 'tis well we smother
Our pain—with jealous pride,
From ourselves—as from each other
Oft we thus its fulness hide!
Our pain—with jealous pride,
From ourselves—as from each other
Oft we thus its fulness hide!
There were thousand garlands blushing
In the festal hall that night—
And from thousand lamps was gushing
A flood of golden light.
In the festal hall that night—
And from thousand lamps was gushing
A flood of golden light.
456
And that golden light reflected
From a thousand faces seemed;
Not one wore a look dejected—
Each with bright expressions beamed.
From a thousand faces seemed;
Not one wore a look dejected—
Each with bright expressions beamed.
Would you read the hearts of others,
Pierce the mystery—raise the mask—
Think on all your own still smothers!—
Have you aught beside to ask?
Pierce the mystery—raise the mask—
Think on all your own still smothers!—
Have you aught beside to ask?
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |