Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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HOPE! HADST THOU FLOWN AWAY. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
HOPE! HADST THOU FLOWN AWAY.
Hope! hadst thou flown away,
That I had borne!—
But, touched with Earth's decay,
Thou liest forlorn—
That I had borne!—
But, touched with Earth's decay,
Thou liest forlorn—
Mortal-like—Dream of Dreams!
Thus canst thou be?—
Cold, cold corruption seems
Busy with thee!
Thus canst thou be?—
Cold, cold corruption seems
Busy with thee!
190
Hope! hadst thou flown away,
That I had borne!
But not thus day by day
Thy wane to mourn!
That I had borne!
But not thus day by day
Thy wane to mourn!
Thy wane to watch, and weep—
And my Life's waste—
Oh! long and dreamless sleep—
Haste—pitying—haste!
And my Life's waste—
Oh! long and dreamless sleep—
Haste—pitying—haste!
Hope! or at once depart—
Or but revive—
Cease, cease to haunt this heart,
Or—brightly live!
Or but revive—
Cease, cease to haunt this heart,
Or—brightly live!
Death hath been done on thee,
This Heart's thy tomb!
There, there thy reliques be,
Dark desperate doom!
This Heart's thy tomb!
There, there thy reliques be,
Dark desperate doom!
191
Not like things living found
In the dead rock,
Thee, living pulses bound,
Sternly to mock!
In the dead rock,
Thee, living pulses bound,
Sternly to mock!
While thou liest mute and chill,
Lifeless and lone,
Silent and stark and still,
Senseless as stone!
Lifeless and lone,
Silent and stark and still,
Senseless as stone!
Oh! that thy living grave
Even my sick heart
Fate would from tortures save—
Made what thou art!
Even my sick heart
Fate would from tortures save—
Made what thou art!
Oh! that thy living grave—
My crushed, crushed heart
Lethe's dear wave might lave—
Made what thou art!
My crushed, crushed heart
Lethe's dear wave might lave—
Made what thou art!
192
Hope! hadst thou flown away,
That I had borne!
But, touched with Earth's decay,
Thou liest forlorn!
That I had borne!
But, touched with Earth's decay,
Thou liest forlorn!
I cannot all despair
Sorrowing apart,
While thy fair dust is there,
Even at my heart!
Sorrowing apart,
While thy fair dust is there,
Even at my heart!
There lie thy sweet remains,
Still to remind
How once I bore thy chains
Trustful and blind!
Still to remind
How once I bore thy chains
Trustful and blind!
I cannot all despair—
Born still to aspire—
Oh! wherefore are ye fair,
Dreams, dreams of fire?
Born still to aspire—
Oh! wherefore are ye fair,
Dreams, dreams of fire?
193
Wherefore do these still rise
O'er breast and brain,
Lending—while joy still flies—
New powers to pain?
O'er breast and brain,
Lending—while joy still flies—
New powers to pain?
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |