Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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OH! YE WHO SUFFER. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
OH! YE WHO SUFFER.
Oh! ye who suffer and who sigh!
It is your fault—your folly still,
From the ancient Times deep voices cry,
To say this World's a World of ill!
It is your fault—your folly still,
From the ancient Times deep voices cry,
To say this World's a World of ill!
To wean you from its treacherous wiles,
To warn you from its threatening ways,
To bid you shun its hollow smiles,
To bring you safe through its false maze!
To warn you from its threatening ways,
To bid you shun its hollow smiles,
To bring you safe through its false maze!
153
For evermore they cry “beware!”
But who e'er stays to heed their cry—
We little for their counsels care—
And so we suffer and we sigh!
But who e'er stays to heed their cry—
We little for their counsels care—
And so we suffer and we sigh!
Do not these warning voices say—
“Not here should mortals place their trust,
All here is ruin and decay,
The glory of this World is dust!”
“Not here should mortals place their trust,
All here is ruin and decay,
The glory of this World is dust!”
Do not those prophet voices cry—
“All who to Earth will hold and cling,
Must learn to suffer and to sigh—
For Earth is but a vain, vain thing!”
“All who to Earth will hold and cling,
Must learn to suffer and to sigh—
For Earth is but a vain, vain thing!”
What myriad myriads here have mourned,
And drank the cup of sufferings sore—
To warn the rest as they were warned,
And vainly—vainly evermore!
And drank the cup of sufferings sore—
To warn the rest as they were warned,
And vainly—vainly evermore!
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They went in sorrow to the grave,
Because they loved this World too well—
But shall this aid us, shall this save
Those who where they were dwelling, dwell?
Because they loved this World too well—
But shall this aid us, shall this save
Those who where they were dwelling, dwell?
No! myriads have gone mourning thus,
And myriads myriads myriads shall,
No warning voice delivereth us—
Though from the deep of Death it call.
And myriads myriads myriads shall,
No warning voice delivereth us—
Though from the deep of Death it call.
We rush upon our certain woe—
Still trusting to this faithless World—
We dare the dangers that we know—
And soon from Hope's gay height are hurled!
Still trusting to this faithless World—
We dare the dangers that we know—
And soon from Hope's gay height are hurled!
Not all the tears that have been shed,
Not all the sighs that have been heaved,
Have e'er deterred us, still misled—
Still disappointed and deceived!
Not all the sighs that have been heaved,
Have e'er deterred us, still misled—
Still disappointed and deceived!
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This mortal ground must ever prove,
Despite our watching and our toil,
Despite all labours of our love,
As a Volcanic Island's soil.
Despite our watching and our toil,
Despite all labours of our love,
As a Volcanic Island's soil.
A soil where, in their gloomy bed
Fierce fatal fires concealed remain—
Ready Destruction's wrath to spread
Around us—who have toiled in vain!
Fierce fatal fires concealed remain—
Ready Destruction's wrath to spread
Around us—who have toiled in vain!
The ashes of former fires are there,
Of future flames the deadly germs,
And vain must be our toil and care,
For what are we but helpless worms?
Of future flames the deadly germs,
And vain must be our toil and care,
For what are we but helpless worms?
Thence ruin shall we reap alone,
But whose in sooth shall be the blame?
'Tis vanity that we have sown,
And 'tis our doom to reap the same!
But whose in sooth shall be the blame?
'Tis vanity that we have sown,
And 'tis our doom to reap the same!
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Then seem our Past and Present blent
In one unchecked, unbroken gloom,
And yon Imperial Firmament
Shines, arched, o'er one wide yawning tomb!
In one unchecked, unbroken gloom,
And yon Imperial Firmament
Shines, arched, o'er one wide yawning tomb!
Then seems the angry Future too
Like one dark threatening thunder-cloud
Full of our fates—to blast the view,
With Night, and Death, and Tempest bowed!
Like one dark threatening thunder-cloud
Full of our fates—to blast the view,
With Night, and Death, and Tempest bowed!
When radiant Morning comes to throw
Her beauty o'er created things,
We sicken at the enchanted glow
Which unto us but suffering brings!
Her beauty o'er created things,
We sicken at the enchanted glow
Which unto us but suffering brings!
When Vesper hours are floating past
With all their sweetness and their calm,
We pray such hours may be our last,
For they can yield our hearts no balm.
With all their sweetness and their calm,
We pray such hours may be our last,
For they can yield our hearts no balm.
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We weep—but every burning tear
Seems scorching up our very Souls,
Making all desolate and drear—
Like lava that o'er vineyards rolls!
Seems scorching up our very Souls,
Making all desolate and drear—
Like lava that o'er vineyards rolls!
We weep—but every drop appears
A quivering life-drop of the heart,
A shower of fire those passionate tears,
That tenfold make our torture's smart!
A quivering life-drop of the heart,
A shower of fire those passionate tears,
That tenfold make our torture's smart!
Our Souls then writhe with agony
That lay all crushed and still before,
While rain down from the hopeless eye
Those deadly drops—with anguish sore.
That lay all crushed and still before,
While rain down from the hopeless eye
Those deadly drops—with anguish sore.
The effort and the struggle then
The Soul's numbed energies awake,
We had sunk down—we rise again—
The burthen on our hearts to take!
The Soul's numbed energies awake,
We had sunk down—we rise again—
The burthen on our hearts to take!
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And so we suffer and we sigh,
Nor counsel we, nor caution heed—
We strive on idly till we die—
Our heart-strength pillared in a reed!
Nor counsel we, nor caution heed—
We strive on idly till we die—
Our heart-strength pillared in a reed!
The hollow Hopes to which we cling
Just soften and unnerve the mind,
Then false as falsehood's self take wing,
And leave a living wreck behind!
Just soften and unnerve the mind,
Then false as falsehood's self take wing,
And leave a living wreck behind!
And on the withered wearied heart
They stamp their blasted track and bare,
Like fairy-rings—and swift depart,
And all their memory is despair!
They stamp their blasted track and bare,
Like fairy-rings—and swift depart,
And all their memory is despair!
Or like receding waves that fling
Faint foam-wreaths on the yellow shore,
Pale garlands never blossoming—
That never fruit of promise bore!
Faint foam-wreaths on the yellow shore,
Pale garlands never blossoming—
That never fruit of promise bore!
159
And so we suffer and we sigh,
And grieve that we were ever born,
Though from the Past deep voices cry,
To give us counsel and to warn.
And grieve that we were ever born,
Though from the Past deep voices cry,
To give us counsel and to warn.
And all that after us shall come,
Like us shall murmur and shall mourn,
And turn them to the sheltering tomb—
And grieve that ever they were born!
Like us shall murmur and shall mourn,
And turn them to the sheltering tomb—
And grieve that ever they were born!
For still the restless heart of man
Against his Earthly doom rebels—
Beyond his narrow bounded span,
With mighty yearning still it swells.
Against his Earthly doom rebels—
Beyond his narrow bounded span,
With mighty yearning still it swells.
It still will struggle and aspire—
Till from all hope 'tis sternly hurled,
And seek with fond and vain desire
Heaven's joy in this unheavenly World!
Till from all hope 'tis sternly hurled,
And seek with fond and vain desire
Heaven's joy in this unheavenly World!
160
In this unheavenly World's bleak waste
'T will thirst for fountains of delight,
That far above are brightly placed
Where sweeps no Storm, and frowns no Night.
'T will thirst for fountains of delight,
That far above are brightly placed
Where sweeps no Storm, and frowns no Night.
And therefore must it burn and bound
Too proudly—passionately still—
With fervent feelings too profound—
Until it lieth mute and chill.
Too proudly—passionately still—
With fervent feelings too profound—
Until it lieth mute and chill.
And therefore must it bleed and ache
With overwhelming burthening cares—
Till haply it is doomed to break—
Victim of long-endured despairs.
With overwhelming burthening cares—
Till haply it is doomed to break—
Victim of long-endured despairs.
Yet surely better for the mind
To mourn in generous discontent,
Than here its perfect joy to find,
Where prisoned in the clay 'tis pent.
To mourn in generous discontent,
Than here its perfect joy to find,
Where prisoned in the clay 'tis pent.
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Aye! haply better still to aspire—
And learn through Disappointment's power,
That here the hope and the desire
Must wither like Spring's first-born flower.
And learn through Disappointment's power,
That here the hope and the desire
Must wither like Spring's first-born flower.
Better to suffer and to sigh,
And learn through sorrow and through shame
That only, only when we die
Can we the bliss unclouded claim!
And learn through sorrow and through shame
That only, only when we die
Can we the bliss unclouded claim!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |