Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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SORROW. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
195
SORROW.
Sorrow!—traduced and injured power,
They know thee not who little know—
Who with thee pass a fleeting hour,
Then deem they are conversant with Woe!
They know thee not who little know—
Who with thee pass a fleeting hour,
Then deem they are conversant with Woe!
Thou dost unlock thy precious store
But for those hearts that lean to thee,
That bow not only—but adore
And worship thy rich Mystery!
But for those hearts that lean to thee,
That bow not only—but adore
And worship thy rich Mystery!
They claim a more exalted share,
Sorrow! in all thou dost impose,
And precious grows their gentle care,
And sweet and sacred seem their woes.
Sorrow! in all thou dost impose,
And precious grows their gentle care,
And sweet and sacred seem their woes.
196
The only flowers they deign to cull,
Are everlastings, pure, and fair,
All deeply, strangely beautiful,
And but their solemn bloom they wear.
Are everlastings, pure, and fair,
All deeply, strangely beautiful,
And but their solemn bloom they wear.
The only gems they deign to glean,
Are pearls of price, untold, sublime;
Glorious, even in this earthly scene,
More glorious—where is no more Time!
Are pearls of price, untold, sublime;
Glorious, even in this earthly scene,
More glorious—where is no more Time!
For them, indeed, o'ershadowing Earth,
A midnight of dread shadows frowns,
But then for them, sent beaming forth,
A host of worlds the darkness crowns.
A midnight of dread shadows frowns,
But then for them, sent beaming forth,
A host of worlds the darkness crowns.
Worlds—never shining in the day
Of proud Prosperity elate—
But hoarding many a Heavenly ray
For the hours of Night-like Sorrow's state!
Of proud Prosperity elate—
But hoarding many a Heavenly ray
For the hours of Night-like Sorrow's state!
197
For Sorrow, with her shadowy mien,
She hath a proud state for her own,
And Sorrow is a sceptered Queen,
Whose kingdom shall not be o'erthrown.
She hath a proud state for her own,
And Sorrow is a sceptered Queen,
Whose kingdom shall not be o'erthrown.
Her silent court is the inmost heart,
When all submits unto her law;
She rules each conscious pulse and part,
Which yields with an adoring awe.
When all submits unto her law;
She rules each conscious pulse and part,
Which yields with an adoring awe.
The mind is queenly Sorrow's mint,
And every rich thought issued thence
Is stamped with her peculiar print—
And, Oh!—how vast her opulence!
And every rich thought issued thence
Is stamped with her peculiar print—
And, Oh!—how vast her opulence!
The mind is queenly Sorrow's mint,
And there each wakening thought receives
Her stamp of proof—her seal and print—
Which still on each she strongly leaves.
And there each wakening thought receives
Her stamp of proof—her seal and print—
Which still on each she strongly leaves.
198
Oh! Sorrow!—wronged and injured Power!
How little of thy charm they know,
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then deem they're conversant with woe.
How little of thy charm they know,
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then deem they're conversant with woe.
Thou dost unlock thy precious store
Only for hearts that well obey—
That not alone obey—adore—
And worship thee, and love thy sway!
Only for hearts that well obey—
That not alone obey—adore—
And worship thee, and love thy sway!
Sorrow!—thy votary true am I—
I own thee fair—I call thee dear—
Content to be thy votary—
But only now—but only here!
I own thee fair—I call thee dear—
Content to be thy votary—
But only now—but only here!
In this strange changeful World, in this
I am content thy yoke to bear,
Awaiting an eternal bliss,
In Worlds more pure, more blest, more fair.
I am content thy yoke to bear,
Awaiting an eternal bliss,
In Worlds more pure, more blest, more fair.
199
Upon my fond grief of to-day,
'Midst all the sufferings of my doom
Rests—charming every fear away,
The shadow of the joy to come!
'Midst all the sufferings of my doom
Rests—charming every fear away,
The shadow of the joy to come!
The Sun-like Shadow, more than bright,
Crowning the darkness of my life—
How shines Heaven's soft reflected light
On Time's black boiling surge of strife.
Crowning the darkness of my life—
How shines Heaven's soft reflected light
On Time's black boiling surge of strife.
And thus thine every pang is dear,
And promises a future bliss;
And lit with love falls every tear,
While Sorrow's hallowed rod I kiss.
And promises a future bliss;
And lit with love falls every tear,
While Sorrow's hallowed rod I kiss.
I can, in this my doubled life,
Glean deep content from doubt's distress;
Peace—perfect peace from pain and strife,
And rapture from my wretchedness!
Glean deep content from doubt's distress;
Peace—perfect peace from pain and strife,
And rapture from my wretchedness!
200
Sorrow!—traduced and injured Power,
They know thee not who little know,
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then dream they sound the depths of woe.
They know thee not who little know,
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then dream they sound the depths of woe.
Thou dost display thy wond'rous store
For those who well obey thy rule,
Who thee exalt—and thee adore—
Who study in thy mystic school!
For those who well obey thy rule,
Who thee exalt—and thee adore—
Who study in thy mystic school!
Thou show'st them in thy soul-set glass
The pomps and glories of the Earth—
And how they pale—and how they pass
Of false, false weight, and fleeting worth.
The pomps and glories of the Earth—
And how they pale—and how they pass
Of false, false weight, and fleeting worth.
Thou show'st them that which is alone
Our hope, our trust, and our defence,
Oh! who hath known thee and not known
To draw their deep support from thence.
Our hope, our trust, and our defence,
Oh! who hath known thee and not known
To draw their deep support from thence.
201
Thou through thy paths of winding Gloom
Dost to that Rock of Ages lead!
Beyond vain time—beyond the tomb,
Thou bidd'st us urge our hopes indeed.
Dost to that Rock of Ages lead!
Beyond vain time—beyond the tomb,
Thou bidd'st us urge our hopes indeed.
Sorrow! thy Votaries love thee still,
Those Votaries, who thy secrets know,
Whose dark brimmed cup thy cold hands fill,
Whose fate thou only rul'st below.
Those Votaries, who thy secrets know,
Whose dark brimmed cup thy cold hands fill,
Whose fate thou only rul'st below.
Their hearts become thy silent court
Where thou dost undisputed reign,
Where Earth-born dreams may ne'er resort,
Nor aught of varying and of vain.
Where thou dost undisputed reign,
Where Earth-born dreams may ne'er resort,
Nor aught of varying and of vain.
Their minds are queenly Sorrow's mint,
Where every rich and solemn thought
Is stamped with her peculiar print,
And with them Worlds shall yet be bought.
Where every rich and solemn thought
Is stamped with her peculiar print,
And with them Worlds shall yet be bought.
202
Their minds are Sorrow's rich mints still,
And their pure thoughts are as fine gold:
She coins these thoughts with careful skill,
And makes their worth—unweighed, untold.
And their pure thoughts are as fine gold:
She coins these thoughts with careful skill,
And makes their worth—unweighed, untold.
In her dread furnace, is that Mind
Seven times refined—even thought by thought,
Feeling by feeling—proved—refined,
Till to perfection's fulness brought.
Seven times refined—even thought by thought,
Feeling by feeling—proved—refined,
Till to perfection's fulness brought.
Sorrow! traduced and injured Power,
They know thee not who little know—
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then deem they are conversant with woe!
They know thee not who little know—
Who pass with thee one fleeting hour,
Then deem they are conversant with woe!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |