 | Lillia-Bianca |  |
1
LILLIA-BIANCA.
Beauteous Lady Lillia-Bianca!—
Thou seem'st bowed by sufferings sore!—
Yet what can the grief be, darkening
Thy glad youth, so deeply o'er?—
Thou seem'st bowed by sufferings sore!—
Yet what can the grief be, darkening
Thy glad youth, so deeply o'er?—
All that Earth can give and Nature,
At thy very feet is thrown;
Thou hast wealth, state, youth, and beauty,
And a happy home—thine own!
At thy very feet is thrown;
Thou hast wealth, state, youth, and beauty,
And a happy home—thine own!
2
And thine anxious, doating Father—
He!—the ever kind and mild—
Would give all his heaps of treasure
For his blessed, darling child!
He!—the ever kind and mild—
Would give all his heaps of treasure
For his blessed, darling child!
Then what can be now the sorrow
Which hath bowed thee and o'ercome;
And left thee, once all brightness,
Thus all bitterness and gloom?
Which hath bowed thee and o'ercome;
And left thee, once all brightness,
Thus all bitterness and gloom?
Say!—what can be that cold sufferance
Which hath made thy soul its prey—
Swept the spring-time of thy spirit,
And its freshness all away?
Which hath made thy soul its prey—
Swept the spring-time of thy spirit,
And its freshness all away?
Thou wert glorious as the Midnight,
When it blazes out in stars!—
Thou wert beautiful as Summer,
When it bursts Earth's wintery bars!—
When it blazes out in stars!—
Thou wert beautiful as Summer,
When it bursts Earth's wintery bars!—
3
Thou wert joyous as the skylark—
When its music, full and clear,
Makes us dream the Song of Angels
Is descending on the ear!
When its music, full and clear,
Makes us dream the Song of Angels
Is descending on the ear!
One sorrow, and one only,
Can this dismal change have wrought;
That which should be thy chief gladness
Hath been all with suffering fraught!—
Can this dismal change have wrought;
That which should be thy chief gladness
Hath been all with suffering fraught!—
Love betrayed—Love wronged and blighted!—
Oh! this must be source and spring
Of this dreariment of sadness—
And this early withering!
Oh! this must be source and spring
Of this dreariment of sadness—
And this early withering!
They had taken her from Venice,
From the glorious Ocean-queen—
Where the proud Republic's daughter
Had once—once so happy been!
From the glorious Ocean-queen—
Where the proud Republic's daughter
Had once—once so happy been!
4
They had taken her from Venice,
In faint hopes the change might give
Some solace to her spirit—
And bid her smile and live!
In faint hopes the change might give
Some solace to her spirit—
And bid her smile and live!
She had shown but cold Uncaring
Scarce appeared that change to mark;
Though the world without was various,
All the world within was dark!
Scarce appeared that change to mark;
Though the world without was various,
All the world within was dark!
Cold Indifference seemed her feeling—
She unconscious went and came;
Though the world without was altered—
Was the world within—the same!
She unconscious went and came;
Though the world without was altered—
Was the world within—the same!
She had been a Queen of Beauty—
Was a Queen of Beauty still!—
Though so pallid grown and fragile,
Changed so statue-like and chill!—
Was a Queen of Beauty still!—
Though so pallid grown and fragile,
Changed so statue-like and chill!—
5
Her long hair was of the death-black,
And her eyes were deep as doom—
Once resplendent—her complexion
Had out-lustred morning's bloom.
And her eyes were deep as doom—
Once resplendent—her complexion
Had out-lustred morning's bloom.
She had been a fawn—a fairy—
In her brightness and her glee;—
Now a wounded dove, and dying
Seemed that hapless Maid to be!
In her brightness and her glee;—
Now a wounded dove, and dying
Seemed that hapless Maid to be!
And the blooming, bright complexion
Of that wronged, ill-fated Girl—
Colourless as Eve's young crescent,
Was like palest, purest pearl.
Of that wronged, ill-fated Girl—
Colourless as Eve's young crescent,
Was like palest, purest pearl.
Pale as pearl or crescent glimpsing
Through the clouds at evening's hour,
Sate the half-unconscious Maiden
In her long-forsaken bower.
Through the clouds at evening's hour,
Sate the half-unconscious Maiden
In her long-forsaken bower.
6
Her unbanded hair falls darkly
Round her form so slight and weak—
Oh!—now needeth not its shadows
That pale, cold, unblushful cheek!—
Round her form so slight and weak—
Oh!—now needeth not its shadows
That pale, cold, unblushful cheek!—
Her lute, untouched—neglected—
Lies mutely at her feet;
Not to her sick ear could music—
Save of sighs alone—sound sweet!
Lies mutely at her feet;
Not to her sick ear could music—
Save of sighs alone—sound sweet!
(Sighs!—dear Preluders of Passion,
Yet dark Prophets of Despair—
Of the accumulated anguish
Of the crowded care on care!)
Yet dark Prophets of Despair—
Of the accumulated anguish
Of the crowded care on care!)
She uttered no upbraidings
'Gainst the Author of her grief—
His name pronounced she never,
Though it had been dear relief!
'Gainst the Author of her grief—
His name pronounced she never,
Though it had been dear relief!
7
That name, too deeply written
On the pages of her Heart,
Still she spoke not—had she uttered—
She had heard it with a start!
On the pages of her Heart,
Still she spoke not—had she uttered—
She had heard it with a start!
For awhile they dwelt in Padua—
Then with restless hope her Sire
Took that gentlest Maid to Mantua—
Daily seemed she to expire!
Then with restless hope her Sire
Took that gentlest Maid to Mantua—
Daily seemed she to expire!
Since where'er she goes—for ever—
Bleed her staunchless wounds of Heart—
That still bears with it—its dungeon—
Dwells from all beside, apart!
Bleed her staunchless wounds of Heart—
That still bears with it—its dungeon—
Dwells from all beside, apart!
And that miserable Maiden,
With an inward-gazing eye,
Saw but sorrow and distraction,
And the Amaze-fixt Agony!—
With an inward-gazing eye,
Saw but sorrow and distraction,
And the Amaze-fixt Agony!—
8
Time—the streaming Time flowed onwards,
But no dear hope might array
The unilluminated morrows,
Or the darkened dull to-day!—
But no dear hope might array
The unilluminated morrows,
Or the darkened dull to-day!—
And no dear hope might be shining
O'er her path of perfect pain;
But the unbroken spirit-darkness
For evermore must reign!
O'er her path of perfect pain;
But the unbroken spirit-darkness
For evermore must reign!
Lillia-Bianca and Leonardo!
They are severed—it is o'er!—
And the dreams she dreamed of rapture,
They are withered—they are no more!
They are severed—it is o'er!—
And the dreams she dreamed of rapture,
They are withered—they are no more!
Lillia-Bianca and Leonardo!
They may never meet again!
Since dark faithlessness and falsehood
First dimmed—then broke Love's chain.
They may never meet again!
Since dark faithlessness and falsehood
First dimmed—then broke Love's chain.
9
Hush! she speaks!—or is't but moaning?—
'Tis her silvery voice and soft!—
Though so faultering—scarce her meaning
Its faint hollowness can waft!
'Tis her silvery voice and soft!—
Though so faultering—scarce her meaning
Its faint hollowness can waft!
“Could I change mine unwise Sorrow
Into brave high-hearted Scorn,
Then my cruel fortune better
Might, perchance, be brooked and borne.
Into brave high-hearted Scorn,
Then my cruel fortune better
Might, perchance, be brooked and borne.
“But seem all my clinging Heart-strings
Like an hundred wreathing arms,
Round him thrown, with strength impassioned,
Love destroys—and love disarms!
Like an hundred wreathing arms,
Round him thrown, with strength impassioned,
Love destroys—and love disarms!
“Aye! seem all these clinging Heart-strings
Like an hundred arms clasped round
The False One, who hath sternly
That poor Heart in iron bound!—
Like an hundred arms clasped round
The False One, who hath sternly
That poor Heart in iron bound!—
10
“And forgetfulness?—'twere folly—
For that to seek or strive—
If I died I might forget thee—
I must love—if I must live!”
For that to seek or strive—
If I died I might forget thee—
I must love—if I must live!”
“Oh! my wretched heart—be marble!—
All thy writhing is in vain—
In Submission's torpor slumber,
For thou givest me too much pain!”
All thy writhing is in vain—
In Submission's torpor slumber,
For thou givest me too much pain!”
Then with eyes of wild beseeching—
Did she gaze upon the sky—
As she sought to look the farthest
From her Maddening Misery!
Did she gaze upon the sky—
As she sought to look the farthest
From her Maddening Misery!
But that sky was bright and sunny—
And she might not bear the glow—
Thus her glance once more fell downwards
On the Earth—and on her Woe!
And she might not bear the glow—
Thus her glance once more fell downwards
On the Earth—and on her Woe!
11
There she sate, with eyes fixed coldly
On the fair and flowery ground—
Sate there moveless—as in fetters
Was that form of beauty bound!—
On the fair and flowery ground—
Sate there moveless—as in fetters
Was that form of beauty bound!—
And in heaven and earth was nothing
That might soothe or check her grief!—
Nor in all the space between them
Aught that e'er might bring relief!
That might soothe or check her grief!—
Nor in all the space between them
Aught that e'er might bring relief!
Past a fairy child came bounding,
In its innocence of mirth—
In its blameless, bright light-heartedness,
The happiest of the earth!
In its innocence of mirth—
In its blameless, bright light-heartedness,
The happiest of the earth!
If the sky looked all too sunny
In that trembling Sufferer's eyes—
Oh! the joy on that glad forehead
More o'ertakes with pain'd surprise!
In that trembling Sufferer's eyes—
Oh! the joy on that glad forehead
More o'ertakes with pain'd surprise!
12
If the sky seemed too resplendent
To that miserable Maid—
That young child, with bliss irradiate,
Makes her shrinking heart afraid!—
To that miserable Maid—
That young child, with bliss irradiate,
Makes her shrinking heart afraid!—
Ev'n afraid and very trembling—
As a fearful light had just
Been vouchsafed to her long darkness!—
Shining down on clay and dust!
As a fearful light had just
Been vouchsafed to her long darkness!—
Shining down on clay and dust!
She could scarce believe the havoc
That unhappiest love had wrought;
And yet worse than desolation
Seemed now frowning to her thought!
That unhappiest love had wrought;
And yet worse than desolation
Seemed now frowning to her thought!
She was once a child as fearless!—
She was once as glad a child—
Once as bounding and as buoyant—
And as witless—and as wild!
She was once as glad a child—
Once as bounding and as buoyant—
And as witless—and as wild!
13
Could there be a change so deadly,
Without some darkening sin?—
Oh! like fiends raved all her feelings,
Making hideous strife within!
Without some darkening sin?—
Oh! like fiends raved all her feelings,
Making hideous strife within!
Dared she yield up all her being—
To a passion that could bring
Such a storm of devastation—
All her soul to wound and wring?—
To a passion that could bring
Such a storm of devastation—
All her soul to wound and wring?—
That could madden thus and monster
All her phantasies and dreams,
Till her mind a howling desert
Of abhorrent terrors seems!—
All her phantasies and dreams,
Till her mind a howling desert
Of abhorrent terrors seems!—
That could make her once-glad feelings
Like to demons of despair,
And e'en stamp the whole of nature
With the trouble of her care!
Like to demons of despair,
And e'en stamp the whole of nature
With the trouble of her care!
14
It was Sorrow!—was it Sinning?—
It was Suffering!—was it Shame?—
And the broken-hearted Maiden—
'Gan herself to scorn and blame.
It was Suffering!—was it Shame?—
And the broken-hearted Maiden—
'Gan herself to scorn and blame.
Then with gush of fresh self-pity,
And of self-forgiveness deep—
She recovered from that phrenzy—
Nor in that stern mood might keep!
And of self-forgiveness deep—
She recovered from that phrenzy—
Nor in that stern mood might keep!
“But Oh!—I have so suffered!—
Have so bled my heart away—
With the intolerable anguish
That did wound me night and day!—
Have so bled my heart away—
With the intolerable anguish
That did wound me night and day!—
“I have borne such nameless torments,
With such agonizing strife!—
I have known such deaths—undying—
In my young and stainless life!—
With such agonizing strife!—
I have known such deaths—undying—
In my young and stainless life!—
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“I can think not, such dire suffering
Can remain unpitied there—
In the Heaven, where all is peaceful—
Power must pity such despair!—
Can remain unpitied there—
In the Heaven, where all is peaceful—
Power must pity such despair!—
“Still methinks come Angels trooping,
With their looks of light and love—
In a sweet astonished trouble—
From their orbs of peace above!—
With their looks of light and love—
In a sweet astonished trouble—
From their orbs of peace above!—
“Overpowered with wildering marvel,
That bright Love which makes their bliss,
Should yet plunge a wretched mortal
Into such despair as this!—
That bright Love which makes their bliss,
Should yet plunge a wretched mortal
Into such despair as this!—
“Ah! methinks I see them stooping
From their beaming worlds on high—
With the Sun-blaze all o'erclouded
In each Everlasting Eye!
From their beaming worlds on high—
With the Sun-blaze all o'erclouded
In each Everlasting Eye!
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“With such looks of mild compassion,
Such pathetic wonder deep!—
In each countenance like lightning—
That their Long Joy seems to sleep!—
Such pathetic wonder deep!—
In each countenance like lightning—
That their Long Joy seems to sleep!—
“And thou—thou dear child triumphant!—
Little Angel of the Earth!—
Thou shalt pause for very pity,
In the midst of all thy mirth!”—
Little Angel of the Earth!—
Thou shalt pause for very pity,
In the midst of all thy mirth!”—
But the child, (who first arrested
By her grief—felt some faint awe,)
Now swift bounded forwards lightly,
Towards some insect gem she saw.
By her grief—felt some faint awe,)
Now swift bounded forwards lightly,
Towards some insect gem she saw.
With her arms outstretched and eager,
With her clear eyes straining wild;
Bounded onwards fast and fearless
Now that merry little child!—
With her clear eyes straining wild;
Bounded onwards fast and fearless
Now that merry little child!—
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And fell back—more sorely stricken,
That weary Sufferer there—
“Child! Oh!—Child!—forbear to chase it,
It may bring thee some despair!—
That weary Sufferer there—
“Child! Oh!—Child!—forbear to chase it,
It may bring thee some despair!—
“It might bring thee some dark trial—
Oh! forbear the gladsome race,
It might bring Pain's sting and venom!
Oh!—forswear the bounding chase!
Oh! forbear the gladsome race,
It might bring Pain's sting and venom!
Oh!—forswear the bounding chase!
“All that seems most like a promise,
All that tempts—that doth invite—
Makes me think of disappointment—
Of the change and of the blight!
All that tempts—that doth invite—
Makes me think of disappointment—
Of the change and of the blight!
“But my judgments are distempered—
And my soul and mind are sick,
And where once shone hopes and pleasures,
Fears and dark distrusts rise thick!”
And my soul and mind are sick,
And where once shone hopes and pleasures,
Fears and dark distrusts rise thick!”
18
Now the grey-haired Sire despatcheth,
Over mount and plain and sea,
Many messengers—and couriers,
Prompt to do his bidding free!
Over mount and plain and sea,
Many messengers—and couriers,
Prompt to do his bidding free!
“Search all countries for their treasures—
Bring them here unto my child;
Since for her I would be spendthrift,
Of the wealth my Sires have piled!
Bring them here unto my child;
Since for her I would be spendthrift,
Of the wealth my Sires have piled!
“I would give an Emperor's riches—
To buy back her fading bloom—
To see her glad and buoyant—
And to snatch her from the tomb!
To buy back her fading bloom—
To see her glad and buoyant—
And to snatch her from the tomb!
“My house is great and affluent—
Few can match with it—I ween—
In our glorious town of Venice—
Still the richest this hath been!—
Few can match with it—I ween—
In our glorious town of Venice—
Still the richest this hath been!—
19
“I could gladly drain my coffers
For my daughter's weal and good—
And wander reft and beggared—
Where 'mid Princes I have stood!
For my daughter's weal and good—
And wander reft and beggared—
Where 'mid Princes I have stood!
“For my daughter I would gladly
Yield the wealth might buy a Crown—
And to ransom her from sorrow—
Would pay unweighed millions down!”
Yield the wealth might buy a Crown—
And to ransom her from sorrow—
Would pay unweighed millions down!”
Those were pleasant halls in Mantua,
Where the twain in sorrow dwelt,
With all splendours gathered round them,
And all pleasures too—unfelt!
Where the twain in sorrow dwelt,
With all splendours gathered round them,
And all pleasures too—unfelt!
She was still Earth's heaviest mourner,
Buried utterly in woe—
And he watched her sorrows fondly,
Till they seemed his own to grow!
Buried utterly in woe—
And he watched her sorrows fondly,
Till they seemed his own to grow!
20
There were costly halls of paintings—
By the mightiest masters wrought;
But the rainbowed walls were shadowed
By her ever-sorrowing thought!
By the mightiest masters wrought;
But the rainbowed walls were shadowed
By her ever-sorrowing thought!
There were proud saloons for music—
Such was discord now to her;
And to passioned throes of torment
Could but richly minister!
Such was discord now to her;
And to passioned throes of torment
Could but richly minister!
There were pleasaunce-grounds (so beauteous
They appeared enchanted all!)
Where the bird's song scarce seemed sweeter
Than the echoing waterfall!
They appeared enchanted all!)
Where the bird's song scarce seemed sweeter
Than the echoing waterfall!
“Come forth!—my lovely daughter,
The air blows fresh and free;
There's a milk-white Barbary courser,
All caparisoned for thee!
The air blows fresh and free;
There's a milk-white Barbary courser,
All caparisoned for thee!
21
“Rich caparisons of crimson,
With deep 'broideries thickened o'er!—
On the housings and the bridle—
Gleam a hundred gems and more!
With deep 'broideries thickened o'er!—
On the housings and the bridle—
Gleam a hundred gems and more!
“He is gentle—and full noble
Is his pure and generous breed;
Scarce his master would resign him
With a rain of gold though fee'd!
Is his pure and generous breed;
Scarce his master would resign him
With a rain of gold though fee'd!
“Little golden bells make music
Round the stately creature's head;
And like some flaunting zephyr,
He this solid earth doth tread.
Round the stately creature's head;
And like some flaunting zephyr,
He this solid earth doth tread.
“All his mane is brightly braided
Up with silvered streamers fair—
And his flowing tail is knotted
All with tissued laces rare!—
Up with silvered streamers fair—
And his flowing tail is knotted
All with tissued laces rare!—
22
“And his sumptuous harness glitters
In the streaming sunshine round—
And sheds down a flood of radiance
On the quivering burnished ground!—
In the streaming sunshine round—
And sheds down a flood of radiance
On the quivering burnished ground!—
“Why!—an Empress might be prouder
Of his selle than of her throne!—
And should deck his arched neck's beauty
With her many-jewelled zone!
Of his selle than of her throne!—
And should deck his arched neck's beauty
With her many-jewelled zone!
“Come! I hear his neigh impatient;
Come! the air blows fresh and free:
Haste! and mount this glorious courser,
All caparisoned for thee!
Come! the air blows fresh and free:
Haste! and mount this glorious courser,
All caparisoned for thee!
“Such for chase, or royal battle—
With such costly harness decked,
Some Amazonian Queen, helmed, quivered—
In old times hath urged or checked.
With such costly harness decked,
Some Amazonian Queen, helmed, quivered—
In old times hath urged or checked.
23
“His rich trappings—gold and silver,
Yield his form a dazzling frame!
See! 'midst all their bickering brightenings,
Looks he like a steed of flame!
Yield his form a dazzling frame!
See! 'midst all their bickering brightenings,
Looks he like a steed of flame!
“And e'en tossing like a tempest—
Roll the waves of light around;—
Where he bounds the air looks starry,
And on fire the sparkling ground!
Roll the waves of light around;—
Where he bounds the air looks starry,
And on fire the sparkling ground!
“Wilt please thee mount thy courser?—
He is fresh from Barbary's shores!—
Come, come quickly forth, my daughter—
Through these wide-flung palace doors!—
He is fresh from Barbary's shores!—
Come, come quickly forth, my daughter—
Through these wide-flung palace doors!—
“Mount thy gentle steed, beseech thee!”
Urged the patient loving Sire—
“Through thy veins thou'lt feel fast flowing
His high-swelling soul of fire!
Urged the patient loving Sire—
“Through thy veins thou'lt feel fast flowing
His high-swelling soul of fire!
24
“Thou wilt feel his proud fire flowing
Through thy chilled and stagnant veins—
And the wild storm of his spirit—
That all rest and check disdains!”
Through thy chilled and stagnant veins—
And the wild storm of his spirit—
That all rest and check disdains!”
One hand is on her forehead,
And the other on her heart;
And she goeth forth in silence,
Blind to nature and to art!
And the other on her heart;
And she goeth forth in silence,
Blind to nature and to art!
Long, long colonnades—all shadowy,
She passed unheeding through,
Where statues ranged in beauty
Might have charmed Death's frozen view!—
She passed unheeding through,
Where statues ranged in beauty
Might have charmed Death's frozen view!—
Each—a monument triumphant
Of Earth-deifying art—
Thou lookedst at them—the lovely—
And they lived—in thine own Heart!
Of Earth-deifying art—
Thou lookedst at them—the lovely—
And they lived—in thine own Heart!
25
These the scales might well have melted,
That obscure the eyes of Death!
Such bewilderment of Beauty
As from life drinks all the breath!
That obscure the eyes of Death!
Such bewilderment of Beauty
As from life drinks all the breath!
She looked not at the statues—
She a statue seemed to be,
Through some power mechanic moving—
Not with will and motion free.
She a statue seemed to be,
Through some power mechanic moving—
Not with will and motion free.
And her universal being
Seemed vacuity of power—
Of purpose and of action—
In that cold and joyless hour!
Seemed vacuity of power—
Of purpose and of action—
In that cold and joyless hour!
She hath mounted on her courser—
Through her soul shall flow his fire?—
Oh! no! moment after moment
Doth that Soul—in pain expire!
Through her soul shall flow his fire?—
Oh! no! moment after moment
Doth that Soul—in pain expire!
26
Each instant, as it floweth,
Brings its separate sting to her;
And all change and variation
But to pain can minister!
Brings its separate sting to her;
And all change and variation
But to pain can minister!
Moment after moment ever,
Of her Spirit, Mind and Heart,
Seems expiring and exhaling
Some wrung and tortured part.
Of her Spirit, Mind and Heart,
Seems expiring and exhaling
Some wrung and tortured part.
Yet with fond, fond hope her father
At the Maiden's rein doth ride,
And looks on his pale daughter
With an almost painful pride!
At the Maiden's rein doth ride,
And looks on his pale daughter
With an almost painful pride!
Her fair features finely sculptured—
Traced in outline sharp and clear—
(While her hair the wind blows backward)—
Against the sky appear!
Traced in outline sharp and clear—
(While her hair the wind blows backward)—
Against the sky appear!
27
And be sure that no perfection
Was ever like to hers—
Though the trouble of despairing
All her inward being stirs.
Was ever like to hers—
Though the trouble of despairing
All her inward being stirs.
She was deep, deep learned in mourning,
And that gave a look intense
To her countenance so shadowy—
All the Soul seemed streaming thence!
And that gave a look intense
To her countenance so shadowy—
All the Soul seemed streaming thence!
She was very learned in sorrow—
And that gave a look sublime
To those clearly chiselled features,
As one beyond all Time!—
And that gave a look sublime
To those clearly chiselled features,
As one beyond all Time!—
Beyond all Time appearing—
And all destiny below—
On her brow seemed stamped the Immortal—
She had o'erpassed the world in woe!
And all destiny below—
On her brow seemed stamped the Immortal—
She had o'erpassed the world in woe!
28
She had run a race most fearful—
And had left the world behind!—
In the great, exceeding anguish
Of the heart and of the mind!
And had left the world behind!—
In the great, exceeding anguish
Of the heart and of the mind!
So on her brow of Beauty
Grief's strong finger did impress
A look of long Unchanging,—
Even of Everlastingness!
Grief's strong finger did impress
A look of long Unchanging,—
Even of Everlastingness!
She had run the race of Sorrow—
Struggling on to that dim goal—
With the vehemence and impatience
Of the burthen-hugging Soul!—
Struggling on to that dim goal—
With the vehemence and impatience
Of the burthen-hugging Soul!—
She had run that race of Sorrow,
Which at first she sought to shun—
And the world seemed left behind her—
She had struggled—she had won!
Which at first she sought to shun—
And the world seemed left behind her—
She had struggled—she had won!
29
Oh! she had laboured in her Suffering,
As the Young for ever do,
When at first the shaft of ruin
Hath pierced them through and through!
As the Young for ever do,
When at first the shaft of ruin
Hath pierced them through and through!
All their grief they strive to fathom,
And to penetrate the whole
Of the dark and deadly secret—
Of their wrung and wounded Soul.
And to penetrate the whole
Of the dark and deadly secret—
Of their wrung and wounded Soul.
Every thought that can add torture
To their throes they study o'er;
Ev'n as School-men bent to conquer
Some deep, dark learning's store!
To their throes they study o'er;
Ev'n as School-men bent to conquer
Some deep, dark learning's store!
They seek not for dear deliverance—
No! they seek more to succumb!—
Nor allow the dread infliction
All their energies to numb!
No! they seek more to succumb!—
Nor allow the dread infliction
All their energies to numb!
30
In the o'erpowering of Amazement,
They bewildered—scarce believe—
In the truth of the inward burthen,
Which their deepest souls receive!
They bewildered—scarce believe—
In the truth of the inward burthen,
Which their deepest souls receive!
And their deepest souls they fathom,
And with vain reflections rend,
And increase thus the ills inflicted
To a suffering without end!
And with vain reflections rend,
And increase thus the ills inflicted
To a suffering without end!
Every sense a separate torment—
Every thought a separate doom—
Through their efforts and their struggles—
Doth intolerably become!
Every thought a separate doom—
Through their efforts and their struggles—
Doth intolerably become!
That Ocean they would fathom,
They can calm not to repose—
To its cells and depths and fountains
Bring they ruffling strifes of woes!
They can calm not to repose—
To its cells and depths and fountains
Bring they ruffling strifes of woes!
31
As though they feared and trembled—
Lest the tempest might not find
Its path of tearing terror,
Through the winding ways of mind!
Lest the tempest might not find
Its path of tearing terror,
Through the winding ways of mind!
They bring all the rude fierce ruffling
Of their trials there, and cares—
All the rage and maddening ravage
Of their doom and its despairs!
Of their trials there, and cares—
All the rage and maddening ravage
Of their doom and its despairs!
So through every part the tempest
Is ondriven by their own deed—
And they leave no place of refuge,
And they would leave none—nor need!—
Is ondriven by their own deed—
And they leave no place of refuge,
And they would leave none—nor need!—
Give them all Earth hath to offer—
But hold back their baulked desire—
And they love their misery better,
And would scorn such good in ire!—
But hold back their baulked desire—
And they love their misery better,
And would scorn such good in ire!—
32
It is strange, the unreasoned clinging
Of the heart to its first woe,
As 'twas made for that stern union—
Thus fulfilled its fate below!—
Of the heart to its first woe,
As 'twas made for that stern union—
Thus fulfilled its fate below!—
As 'twere made but for that portion,
For that one dread doom and drear,
And received its destined burthen
With a welcome, though a fear!
For that one dread doom and drear,
And received its destined burthen
With a welcome, though a fear!
“My sweet Daughter! mark'st thou yonder
What a gallant train is seen?—
Dost thou catch the inspiring vision—
To thy left but gently lean!—
What a gallant train is seen?—
Dost thou catch the inspiring vision—
To thy left but gently lean!—
“Ha! thou mark'st those Falconers gathered
For their old romantic sport?—
(Since they tell that great King Xerxes
Followed such in camp and court!
For their old romantic sport?—
(Since they tell that great King Xerxes
Followed such in camp and court!
33
“With the golden falcons blazoned
On his proud empurpled vest—
And they tell Earth's earliest monarchs,
Loved this chase inspiring best!)”
On his proud empurpled vest—
And they tell Earth's earliest monarchs,
Loved this chase inspiring best!)”
With a wildered look and vacant—
Heard the Daughter then his speech,
Which hovering struck her hearing—
Not her absent thoughts could reach!
Heard the Daughter then his speech,
Which hovering struck her hearing—
Not her absent thoughts could reach!
But she bowed her head all gently—
And she looked with such a look—
As the old man, fond and anxious—
Scarce could learn to bear and brook!
And she looked with such a look—
As the old man, fond and anxious—
Scarce could learn to bear and brook!
Fast she rode on with her father
To that gay and gallant troop—
And she saw the freed Hawks proudly
Make their strong and venturous stoop.
To that gay and gallant troop—
And she saw the freed Hawks proudly
Make their strong and venturous stoop.
34
But for her the Hawks and Hunters,
As they stirred the scene around,
Might as well e'en have been painted
On that sky, and on that ground!—
As they stirred the scene around,
Might as well e'en have been painted
On that sky, and on that ground!—
All life to her was nothing—
In her deadly listlessness—
What could please her? what could charm her?
What could ever soothe or bless?
In her deadly listlessness—
What could please her? what could charm her?
What could ever soothe or bless?
And chagrined and disappointed,
Did her Sire retrace his way,
Nor more to his pale daughter
Attempted then to say,
Did her Sire retrace his way,
Nor more to his pale daughter
Attempted then to say,
But dismounting at their palace,
Took her faint hand in his own,
As he almost feared 'twas lifeless,
And it was cold, cold as stone!
Took her faint hand in his own,
As he almost feared 'twas lifeless,
And it was cold, cold as stone!
35
Now the messengers returning,
Have brought costliest presents back—
Surely these, so richly loaden,
Have spoiled nations on their track!
Have brought costliest presents back—
Surely these, so richly loaden,
Have spoiled nations on their track!
“Look on these fair Eastern treasures!”—
Cry her handmaids to that dame;—
“How they make all the air around them
Shine ablaze with floods of flame!”
Cry her handmaids to that dame;—
“How they make all the air around them
Shine ablaze with floods of flame!”
Tripods, cressets—cups and goblets,
Each more precious than the last—
And bright shells of dyes unnumbered—
At the Lady's feet were cast.
Each more precious than the last—
And bright shells of dyes unnumbered—
At the Lady's feet were cast.
And many-coloured carpets,
From far Persia's skilful loom;
And rare perfumes rich, and spiceries,
Making odorous all the room!
From far Persia's skilful loom;
And rare perfumes rich, and spiceries,
Making odorous all the room!
36
And ornaments so brilliant—
On an Emperor's marriage morn,
Might his Bride wear such right proudly,
Feeling such ne'er yet were worn!—
On an Emperor's marriage morn,
Might his Bride wear such right proudly,
Feeling such ne'er yet were worn!—
(But vain to cure the sickness
Of the immedicable heart
Were those tributes of affection,
Or to bid one pang depart!)
Of the immedicable heart
Were those tributes of affection,
Or to bid one pang depart!)
“Dearest Lady! prithee fasten
Round thy forehead fair, these gems;
Such methinks have never glistened
In Imperial Diadems!
Round thy forehead fair, these gems;
Such methinks have never glistened
In Imperial Diadems!
“And this fire of Egypt mantle,
Fold it round thy limbs, I pray—
For its very hue seems precious—
'Tis in sooth a Queen's array.
Fold it round thy limbs, I pray—
For its very hue seems precious—
'Tis in sooth a Queen's array.
37
“And this rare and dazzling girdle,
Round thy waist one moment bind;
Fear thou not that it will burn thee—
Though fire seems therein enshrined!
Round thy waist one moment bind;
Fear thou not that it will burn thee—
Though fire seems therein enshrined!
“I must shade my eyes while settling
Round thy form this flashing zone,”
Cried the laughter-stirred handmaiden,
Wishing these things were her own!—
Round thy form this flashing zone,”
Cried the laughter-stirred handmaiden,
Wishing these things were her own!—
With her whole devout soul wishing
She might claim so rich a prize,
While she fixed on them with longing
Thus her laughter-loving eyes!—
She might claim so rich a prize,
While she fixed on them with longing
Thus her laughter-loving eyes!—
Yet rejoicing to behold them—
These admiring one by one,
As all eyes look charmed and gladdened
At the universal Sun!
These admiring one by one,
As all eyes look charmed and gladdened
At the universal Sun!
38
And with thought to please her father,
Staid the heart-struck maiden there;
All without her was resplendence,
All within—the dead despair!—
Staid the heart-struck maiden there;
All without her was resplendence,
All within—the dead despair!—
How those violet veins meandering
O'er her forehead start and swell!—
Doth their labyrinth of blue beauty—
Of o'erwrought emotions tell!
O'er her forehead start and swell!—
Doth their labyrinth of blue beauty—
Of o'erwrought emotions tell!
Round that sculpture-like smooth forehead,
Now a starred tiara shines—
Of carbuncles red and sparkling,
And the out-glistering chalcedoines.
Now a starred tiara shines—
Of carbuncles red and sparkling,
And the out-glistering chalcedoines.
And her wreathed hair of the death-black,
By the contrast looked more dark;
As the midnight frowns the murkier,
Round the distant stars' clear spark.
By the contrast looked more dark;
As the midnight frowns the murkier,
Round the distant stars' clear spark.
39
And her forehead looked more thoughtful,
Blazoned out with all that light—
Which flowed away intensely
From those stones so broad and bright!—
Blazoned out with all that light—
Which flowed away intensely
From those stones so broad and bright!—
And her pale cheek looked the paler,
Near those jewels' burning bloom—
Their deathless bloom of splendours,
Flowering far in mines of gloom!
Near those jewels' burning bloom—
Their deathless bloom of splendours,
Flowering far in mines of gloom!
Of the under Earth—the Sunless—
They are the everlasting flowers—
Something beautiful and lasting,
Is in this world of ours!
They are the everlasting flowers—
Something beautiful and lasting,
Is in this world of ours!
Round the waist of that sad virgin—
Was the zone transcendent bound;
Like a milky-way of glory,
Glistering dazzlingly around!
Was the zone transcendent bound;
Like a milky-way of glory,
Glistering dazzlingly around!
40
And her busy maidens robed her,
In fair garments wrought and dyed—
'Broidered silks of Alisaunder,
Swept all sparkling there in pride!—
In fair garments wrought and dyed—
'Broidered silks of Alisaunder,
Swept all sparkling there in pride!—
To the ground they swept and loaded
All that floor of marbles fine,
With their gorgeous waves of beauty,
Flowing down in varying line!
All that floor of marbles fine,
With their gorgeous waves of beauty,
Flowing down in varying line!
Loops and links of gold and silver
Fastened all her matchless dress—
But one ornament she wanted,—
'Twas the vanished happiness!
Fastened all her matchless dress—
But one ornament she wanted,—
'Twas the vanished happiness!
Cloth of Tars was that rich drapery
Which from her shoulders fell—
And her stomacher was loaded
With more gems than I might tell.
Which from her shoulders fell—
And her stomacher was loaded
With more gems than I might tell.
41
Now a shower of pearls oriental
They display before her there—
For which prize the sobbing divers
Must have worked and struggled fair.
They display before her there—
For which prize the sobbing divers
Must have worked and struggled fair.
So glorious, choice and splendid,
Were those guerdons of their strife—
Ah! perhaps each hard-gained trophy
Might have cost an out-worn life!—
Were those guerdons of their strife—
Ah! perhaps each hard-gained trophy
Might have cost an out-worn life!—
And perchance on this she pondered,
For she sighed so sore and deep—
'Twas as though she felt the billows—
In their wild and mastering sweep!—
For she sighed so sore and deep—
'Twas as though she felt the billows—
In their wild and mastering sweep!—
Was't revolving this she shuddered?—
For she shuddering turned away—
And the moon-white pearls up gathering,
'Gan the maids to talk and play.
For she shuddering turned away—
And the moon-white pearls up gathering,
'Gan the maids to talk and play.
42
“Now, had I these pearls effulgent,
For my future marriage-morn,
I were then of maidens happiest,
And the proudest ever born.
For my future marriage-morn,
I were then of maidens happiest,
And the proudest ever born.
“Nay! our gentle Lady paleth!—
Paler even than that hath been,
Grows her cheek of childhood's smoothness;—
Haste! and change the speech and scene!
Paler even than that hath been,
Grows her cheek of childhood's smoothness;—
Haste! and change the speech and scene!
“Look! what other priceless treasures,
For thy use and service free;
Oh!—sweet Lady Lillia-Bianca,
By thy Sire are brought for thee!
For thy use and service free;
Oh!—sweet Lady Lillia-Bianca,
By thy Sire are brought for thee!
“Perfumed woods, that shall in burning,
Most delicious odours shed,
And around a cloud of fragrance,
With a depth voluptuous spread!
Most delicious odours shed,
And around a cloud of fragrance,
With a depth voluptuous spread!
43
“Rare orfevreries and costliest!—
The fairest e'er were seen—
Be certain they have issued
From some farfamed magazine!”
The fairest e'er were seen—
Be certain they have issued
From some farfamed magazine!”
Yet ten thousand other presents
Gave that Sire with fears and hopes—
Birds of Paradise' bright feathers—
Horns of fairy antelopes.
Gave that Sire with fears and hopes—
Birds of Paradise' bright feathers—
Horns of fairy antelopes.
Carven cabinets and curious—
Formed of the elephant's fine tooth—
Strange old reliques late-discovered—
All things, thought can reach, in sooth!—
Formed of the elephant's fine tooth—
Strange old reliques late-discovered—
All things, thought can reach, in sooth!—
And the aged, grey-haired Sire came trembling
There to see if his dear child,
By these dainty presents haply,
Might be solaced and beguiled.
There to see if his dear child,
By these dainty presents haply,
Might be solaced and beguiled.
44
The good old Man came dubious—
Hoping fondly—fearing much—
And he paused there—at the threshold—
And that sight her heart did touch.
Hoping fondly—fearing much—
And he paused there—at the threshold—
And that sight her heart did touch.
With a desperate burst of anguish
She received him then and there—
Decked out in queenly trappings—
Unimaginably fair!—
She received him then and there—
Decked out in queenly trappings—
Unimaginably fair!—
And the Father motioning sadly
All the astonish'd Maids away—
Paused in breathless consternation,
Seeking what he yet might say
All the astonish'd Maids away—
Paused in breathless consternation,
Seeking what he yet might say
He had tried all kind condolence—
All advice, all counsel tried;
And he stood there in despondence,
And his Heart within him died!
All advice, all counsel tried;
And he stood there in despondence,
And his Heart within him died!
45
But she—that mournful weeper—
In a shuddering voice and low—
'Gan to speak (while still thick-showering
Down her blistering tear-drops flow!)—
In a shuddering voice and low—
'Gan to speak (while still thick-showering
Down her blistering tear-drops flow!)—
“Thou art kind to me!—my Father!—
To thy pining, 'plaining child;
And despite mine undeservings—
Thou'rt for ever gracious-mild!—
To thy pining, 'plaining child;
And despite mine undeservings—
Thou'rt for ever gracious-mild!—
“Oh! thy kindness, dearest Father,
Is a bitterness to me;
For I feel I must—for ever,
Like a wretch ungrateful, be!
Is a bitterness to me;
For I feel I must—for ever,
Like a wretch ungrateful, be!
“And besides—Oh!—wicked—wayward—
Wayward—wicked as it is—
Still I feel thy love is bitter—
Oh! the impiety of this!
Wayward—wicked as it is—
Still I feel thy love is bitter—
Oh! the impiety of this!
46
“Because he doth not love me,
Seems all other love like hate!—
And thy goodness and thy kindness
Make my sufferings wax more great!
Seems all other love like hate!—
And thy goodness and thy kindness
Make my sufferings wax more great!
“Oh! a deep-dyed, lost offender,
Now I feel I am become!
But I wish for nothing earthly,
Save the death-bed—save the tomb!
Now I feel I am become!
But I wish for nothing earthly,
Save the death-bed—save the tomb!
“I have poisoned all thy goodness
By mine own envenomed mood—
Turned to wormwood all earth's sweetness,
And its waters into blood!
By mine own envenomed mood—
Turned to wormwood all earth's sweetness,
And its waters into blood!
“I am all awearied—wasted—
And a bitter cup have drunk!
From the moment that I quaffed it
All my soul within me sunk!
And a bitter cup have drunk!
From the moment that I quaffed it
All my soul within me sunk!
47
“And all love to me is hateful,
Since the love that I have lost;
And my woe hath made me wicked,
On its waves of wildness tossed!”
Since the love that I have lost;
And my woe hath made me wicked,
On its waves of wildness tossed!”
But her Father nothing answered,
For his grief too darkly stirs;
And he mingled soon his weeping
With those passionate floods of hers!
For his grief too darkly stirs;
And he mingled soon his weeping
With those passionate floods of hers!
Tears and sighs they sadly mingled—
Then with calmer voice she said:—
“Oh! dear Father!—dearest Father!—
Bless'd be every drop you shed!
Then with calmer voice she said:—
“Oh! dear Father!—dearest Father!—
Bless'd be every drop you shed!
“You have given me costly presents,
Won from many a distant land;
In proud luxury of profusion
Showered them round with liberal hand.
Won from many a distant land;
In proud luxury of profusion
Showered them round with liberal hand.
48
“But these—these are still the presents
That my Soul—all melting wears!—
These—thy love's most precious tributes—
These—thy sympathizing tears!
That my Soul—all melting wears!—
These—thy love's most precious tributes—
These—thy sympathizing tears!
“Give to grief no glittering gewgaws—
When the sun hath ceased to shine
Can her eyes find aught resplendent?—
Aught of glorious—aught divine?
When the sun hath ceased to shine
Can her eyes find aught resplendent?—
Aught of glorious—aught divine?
“When the stars in heaven above us
Seem so many trembling tears—
Hath the earth one sparkling bauble
That yet fair or bright appears?
Seem so many trembling tears—
Hath the earth one sparkling bauble
That yet fair or bright appears?
“Nay!—believe—disfurnished chambers,
Unluxurious robes and plain—
Stern dull solitude and silence
Were more soothing to my pain!
Unluxurious robes and plain—
Stern dull solitude and silence
Were more soothing to my pain!
49
“For the splendour of the outward
But contrasts too wilderingly
With the inward, sleepless torture,
And the unvarying misery!”
But contrasts too wilderingly
With the inward, sleepless torture,
And the unvarying misery!”
Yet not thus that tender Father
Could at once all hope resign;
And he brought into her presence
Travelled men and minstrels fine.
Could at once all hope resign;
And he brought into her presence
Travelled men and minstrels fine.
These told her tales romantic—
Wondrous things—strange, quaint, and wild;—
But a year back she had listened
Like a gladly wondering child!
Wondrous things—strange, quaint, and wild;—
But a year back she had listened
Like a gladly wondering child!
These sang her strains so artful—
So delicate and dear—
That all earth appeared converted
To a new, melodious sphere!
So delicate and dear—
That all earth appeared converted
To a new, melodious sphere!
50
All her thoughts had surely—surely—
But a year, ere this year been
Like to singing-birds, gay-carolling
Those several strains between.
But a year, ere this year been
Like to singing-birds, gay-carolling
Those several strains between.
But now they have no music,
They are chill, drear mourners all;
And a deeper, darker shadow
Seems around the scene to fall!
They are chill, drear mourners all;
And a deeper, darker shadow
Seems around the scene to fall!
Yes!—her Thoughts of Love and Beauty,
All like singing birds or shells,
Had been made in days departed—
They are changed—to Funeral-knells.
All like singing birds or shells,
Had been made in days departed—
They are changed—to Funeral-knells.
The Musicians and the Travellers
Can win no wakening smile,
From that lip of sheen and smoothness—
Though its shape seems one the while!
Can win no wakening smile,
From that lip of sheen and smoothness—
Though its shape seems one the while!
51
Its curve is still so lovely—
Could that beauteous lip be made
For aught but gentle smiling?—
Say—thou fair and gracious Maid!
Could that beauteous lip be made
For aught but gentle smiling?—
Say—thou fair and gracious Maid!
And her answer still is weeping—
Heavy weeping evermore!
And she moaneth to her Father:—
“Hear me! hear! thou heardst before!”
Heavy weeping evermore!
And she moaneth to her Father:—
“Hear me! hear! thou heardst before!”
'Gan her eyes to play like Fountains—
'Gan her breast to heave like Storm—
You might see the moving Misery
Strive through all her quivering form.
'Gan her breast to heave like Storm—
You might see the moving Misery
Strive through all her quivering form.
Those dark eyes—like Fountains playing—
Lacked that smile, which, like Heaven's sun,
Had turned all the drops to diamonds,
Her translucent cheek upon!
Lacked that smile, which, like Heaven's sun,
Had turned all the drops to diamonds,
Her translucent cheek upon!
52
“Take me back to lovely Venice!—
Though not lovely now to me!—
I had rather in our Palace
Find myself, once more and thee!
Though not lovely now to me!—
I had rather in our Palace
Find myself, once more and thee!
“Though I scarce know why; for truly
Seem all places even the same!—
And they vary to my senses
Now but only in their name!
Seem all places even the same!—
And they vary to my senses
Now but only in their name!
“All the love for my fair birthplace
Is dead within my heart;
For that hath, in all creation,
Now no interest and no part!
Is dead within my heart;
For that hath, in all creation,
Now no interest and no part!
“The Love all Loves endearing
Hath vanished from my way;
And nothing but indifference
In their empty room can stay!
Hath vanished from my way;
And nothing but indifference
In their empty room can stay!
53
“All the dearest feelings—friendships—
And the holiest, tenderest ties—
That great Love was still endearing!
It is death-struck!—and all dies!
And the holiest, tenderest ties—
That great Love was still endearing!
It is death-struck!—and all dies!
“Why! my very Past, so radiant
With sweet childhood's bloom and breath,
Seems to me a flowerless desert—
All my past life, as a death!
With sweet childhood's bloom and breath,
Seems to me a flowerless desert—
All my past life, as a death!
“Save where thou—false, false Leonardo!—
Lit my path with love's delight!—
All but that seems doom and darkness—
The desert and the blight!
Lit my path with love's delight!—
All but that seems doom and darkness—
The desert and the blight!
“The Infelicities of Fortune
Were all happiness to me!—
So that—love-absolved Leonardo!—
I had shared them all with thee!
Were all happiness to me!—
So that—love-absolved Leonardo!—
I had shared them all with thee!
54
“I would well have borne all sufferance
For thy dear and sovereign sake!—
Unwearingly—unmurmuringly—
At wheel—or block—or stake!
For thy dear and sovereign sake!—
Unwearingly—unmurmuringly—
At wheel—or block—or stake!
“(How I sought thy looks for ever!—
Yet such cowards were mine eyes,
That still, each dear time they saw thee,
'Twas a shock of strange surprise—
Yet such cowards were mine eyes,
That still, each dear time they saw thee,
'Twas a shock of strange surprise—
“That whenever they were lifted
To thine aspect, proud and bright,
They were struck, as though by lightning,
With a blindness of delight!)
To thine aspect, proud and bright,
They were struck, as though by lightning,
With a blindness of delight!)
“And Father!—Father!—hear me!—
I had rather suffer still,
Than win childhood's free indifference
'Stead of this too mortal ill!
I had rather suffer still,
Than win childhood's free indifference
'Stead of this too mortal ill!
55
“If worse suffering could befall me,
(Impossible though 'tis!—)
I had rather brave and brook it,
Than share any other bliss!”
(Impossible though 'tis!—)
I had rather brave and brook it,
Than share any other bliss!”
And they hied them back to Venice—
Glorious Empress of the Sea—
The Beautiful!—the all-powerful!—
The far-renowned and free!
Glorious Empress of the Sea—
The Beautiful!—the all-powerful!—
The far-renowned and free!
“Come, Oh! Daughter!—for the weather
Is the loveliest ever seen,
Of the Queen of Earth's Crowned Cities—
Come thou forth, even like her Queen!
Is the loveliest ever seen,
Of the Queen of Earth's Crowned Cities—
Come thou forth, even like her Queen!
“Thy fair gondola is waiting—
Hark!—the boatman's pleasing strain!—
Come forth!—stately Lillia-Bianca!
With thy gentle vestal train.”
Hark!—the boatman's pleasing strain!—
Come forth!—stately Lillia-Bianca!
With thy gentle vestal train.”
56
She came forth in silent sadness—
In refulgent garments clad—
('Twas to please her Father surely!—)
She came forth all still and sad.
In refulgent garments clad—
('Twas to please her Father surely!—)
She came forth all still and sad.
Brow-bound with royal jewels,
Which the sun's keen rays returned,—
Like a costly conflagration
Those transcendent jewels burned!
Which the sun's keen rays returned,—
Like a costly conflagration
Those transcendent jewels burned!
She appeared in trance of silence—
In full rich apparel clad;—
And yestere'en she had seemed phrenzied—
Since full many a mood she had!
In full rich apparel clad;—
And yestere'en she had seemed phrenzied—
Since full many a mood she had!
Now she spoke with seeming anger,
As though wroth with all she were—
Now with miserable mildness
Asking pity for her care!—
As though wroth with all she were—
Now with miserable mildness
Asking pity for her care!—
57
Now with tones abrupt and hollow,
As she struggled to repress
Some signs of the inward trouble,
And the outwearying restlessness.
As she struggled to repress
Some signs of the inward trouble,
And the outwearying restlessness.
And now with air most queenly!—
As though grief so touch'd with pride,
That scarce with aught of earthly
Moved she measured or allied!
As though grief so touch'd with pride,
That scarce with aught of earthly
Moved she measured or allied!
She leaned against the cushions,
In that soft luxurious boat—
Like a leaf upon the waters
This all silently doth float.
In that soft luxurious boat—
Like a leaf upon the waters
This all silently doth float.
Swarms of gondolas came near them,
Wherein loveliest ladies sate,
Well attended by young nobles,
All of knightly strength and state.
Wherein loveliest ladies sate,
Well attended by young nobles,
All of knightly strength and state.
58
'Twas a Festival in Venice!—
All were gallant, proud, and gay—
For the Doge weds the Adriatic
On this fair and cloudless day!
All were gallant, proud, and gay—
For the Doge weds the Adriatic
On this fair and cloudless day!
Tens of thousands go in gladness—
All these ceremonials fair
To view—and swell the triumph,
And grace the joyaunce there!—
All these ceremonials fair
To view—and swell the triumph,
And grace the joyaunce there!—
Past the oars go dashing lightly—
Lillia-Bianca doth not raise
Her large eyes of deathlike darkness—
On the waves lies fixed her gaze!
Lillia-Bianca doth not raise
Her large eyes of deathlike darkness—
On the waves lies fixed her gaze!
And when in scattered sparkles,
Under some chance oar they dance,
Then dissatisfied she seemeth—
And doth something shift her glance!
Under some chance oar they dance,
Then dissatisfied she seemeth—
And doth something shift her glance!
59
Now the blue, bright water shaketh
To the sound of music loud—
Hark! the rolling drums, the clarions—
Hark! the joyous, shouting crowd!
To the sound of music loud—
Hark! the rolling drums, the clarions—
Hark! the joyous, shouting crowd!
'Twas a blessed time for Venice—
For great victories late were gained
By that Mistress of the Ocean,
Who so long had peerless reigned.
For great victories late were gained
By that Mistress of the Ocean,
Who so long had peerless reigned.
And the Ottomites had suffered
Under her puissant arm;
And this lent the imposing Pageant
Yet another loftier charm.
Under her puissant arm;
And this lent the imposing Pageant
Yet another loftier charm.
Now the Doge, in all his greatness,
Comes right proudly on the view!
Now the Bucentaur is gilding
All the water's quivering Blue!
Comes right proudly on the view!
Now the Bucentaur is gilding
All the water's quivering Blue!
60
And liquid gold seems dashing
'Gainst the gorgeous Barque's bright sides!
Thou mayst well look fair, Adriatic!—
Queen of Queens and Bride of Brides!
'Gainst the gorgeous Barque's bright sides!
Thou mayst well look fair, Adriatic!—
Queen of Queens and Bride of Brides!
The “Te Deum” is loudly chaunted—
And “Kyrie Eleison” there!
Still a nation's vast rejoicing
Should ascend on wings of prayer!
And “Kyrie Eleison” there!
Still a nation's vast rejoicing
Should ascend on wings of prayer!
And the marriage ring is lowered,
And the ceremonial's o'er—
And the shouting, gladdened people
Seek again their palaced shore.
And the ceremonial's o'er—
And the shouting, gladdened people
Seek again their palaced shore.
In the wake of that proud Vessel,
Which contained their Sovereign Chief,
Followed fast that loving Father
And that moveless Maid of grief!
Which contained their Sovereign Chief,
Followed fast that loving Father
And that moveless Maid of grief!
61
She had looked up never, never—
From the time that she had past—
From the broad steps to the Gondola
Not once from first to last.
From the time that she had past—
From the broad steps to the Gondola
Not once from first to last.
Blazoned streamers—pompous draperies—
All the pageantries and pride—
Of that scene of festal glory,
On her uncharmed sense had died!
All the pageantries and pride—
Of that scene of festal glory,
On her uncharmed sense had died!
She remarked not all that concourse
Of the exultant people round—
But gazed still on the azured waters,
As her very looks were bound!
Of the exultant people round—
But gazed still on the azured waters,
As her very looks were bound!
She observed not those glad thousands,
But her own sad mien retained,
Gazing still on the outstretched waters,
As her very looks were chained.
But her own sad mien retained,
Gazing still on the outstretched waters,
As her very looks were chained.
62
Now they reached their palace threshold,
Lo! a gondola shoots near,
And a plumed chevalier whispereth
Soft, a brief word in her ear.
Lo! a gondola shoots near,
And a plumed chevalier whispereth
Soft, a brief word in her ear.
(Had you seen Pygmalion's Statue
When it first was wakened—warmed—
When life's sudden-kindling current
All its marble veins informed—
When it first was wakened—warmed—
When life's sudden-kindling current
All its marble veins informed—
You had seen a sight resembling
The mighty change that rushed
O'er that Death-like Beauty's aspect,
With an instant radiance flushed.)
The mighty change that rushed
O'er that Death-like Beauty's aspect,
With an instant radiance flushed.)
'Twas the Doge's stately nephew—
And the chosen friend of one
Who had brought the Eclipse and Tempest
O'er that gentle heart undone!
And the chosen friend of one
Who had brought the Eclipse and Tempest
O'er that gentle heart undone!
63
In his hand he held a letter,
Which he offered to the maid—
And she dropped it in the waters—
So she shrank with doubt dismayed.
Which he offered to the maid—
And she dropped it in the waters—
So she shrank with doubt dismayed.
Her trembling hand and faultering,
Even as ice all dead and cold,
Tried to grasp it, and retain it—
But it fell from that faint hold.
Even as ice all dead and cold,
Tried to grasp it, and retain it—
But it fell from that faint hold.
In one moment more't was rescued,
And straight given to her again—
Then the broad steps she ascended,
Her closed chamber prompt to gain!—
And straight given to her again—
Then the broad steps she ascended,
Her closed chamber prompt to gain!—
Left her there the watchful Father,
While a hope inspired his breast,
That the false and cruel Lover
Was by late remorse oppressed.
While a hope inspired his breast,
That the false and cruel Lover
Was by late remorse oppressed.
64
Long it was—poor pallid maiden—
Ere thy shaking death-cold hands—
Could undo the precious parchment—
Could untwine the silken bands.
Ere thy shaking death-cold hands—
Could undo the precious parchment—
Could untwine the silken bands.
When at last the missive's opened,
How thy soul comes out to pore,
Through thine eyes of tearful trouble,
On these characters once more!—
How thy soul comes out to pore,
Through thine eyes of tearful trouble,
On these characters once more!—
But a sick dismay o'ertakes her,
On this threshold of her hope,
And again her fluttering spirits,
Like poor birds fresh-wounded droop!—
On this threshold of her hope,
And again her fluttering spirits,
Like poor birds fresh-wounded droop!—
No!—'tis not that well-known writing,
As she hoped and she believed;
Oh! then what can be the letter
She so shudderingly received!
As she hoped and she believed;
Oh! then what can be the letter
She so shudderingly received!
65
From his friend's hand given, 'twas likely—
It seemed certain this must be
A dear letter from the Lover
Who had caused her misery!
It seemed certain this must be
A dear letter from the Lover
Who had caused her misery!
It was traced in strange hand-writing,
'Twas in characters unknown;
And she sate there mute and mournful,
Half refrozen back to stone!
'Twas in characters unknown;
And she sate there mute and mournful,
Half refrozen back to stone!
Still gazing on the letter,—
Till by slow degrees did melt,
All the meaning to her bosom,
Scarce she read it—but she felt!
Till by slow degrees did melt,
All the meaning to her bosom,
Scarce she read it—but she felt!
And once more that changing aspect
Showed a gladness of amaze—
Through her whole thrilled mind seem'd lightening
Quick revivifying rays!
Showed a gladness of amaze—
Through her whole thrilled mind seem'd lightening
Quick revivifying rays!
66
Was no signature appended
To that dark mysterious scroll!—
Enough!—that blessed writing
Hath created her new soul!
To that dark mysterious scroll!—
Enough!—that blessed writing
Hath created her new soul!
Life seems flashing like a torrent
Through her long-lethargic veins;
Yet with something too of sufferance—
Every nerve and muscle strains!
Through her long-lethargic veins;
Yet with something too of sufferance—
Every nerve and muscle strains!
She is choking—she is stifling—
With that o'er-informing flood—
That rushes wildly heart-ward,
Of bounding—burning blood!
With that o'er-informing flood—
That rushes wildly heart-ward,
Of bounding—burning blood!
So, when half-drowned men are rescued
From the swallowing, boiling wave,
They must feel the life-pang stealing
Through their frames—that pang shall save!
From the swallowing, boiling wave,
They must feel the life-pang stealing
Through their frames—that pang shall save!
67
She had now drank all the meaning
Of that grasped and cherished scroll,
With a fever-thirst of passion,
To her deepest—inward soul!—
Of that grasped and cherished scroll,
With a fever-thirst of passion,
To her deepest—inward soul!—
She had gathered all the tidings—
Piece by piece—and part by part,
Like so many separate treasures,
To her own profoundest Heart,—
Piece by piece—and part by part,
Like so many separate treasures,
To her own profoundest Heart,—
And the long, long-banished crimson
Is fast flooding o'er her cheek,
In a flush of gorgeous glory,
Where the rose-tints had been weak.
Is fast flooding o'er her cheek,
In a flush of gorgeous glory,
Where the rose-tints had been weak.
Now she riseth and she paceth
Up and down her chamber there—
While the sweeping plumes and gem-knots,
Yet adorn her dark wreathed hair!
Up and down her chamber there—
While the sweeping plumes and gem-knots,
Yet adorn her dark wreathed hair!
68
With the hurry of her movements,
As she fluttereth to and fro,
Of those thick braids—some fresh loosened,
Down her shoulders wandering go.
As she fluttereth to and fro,
Of those thick braids—some fresh loosened,
Down her shoulders wandering go.
Their death blackness finely shadowing
Those shoulders' sculptured snow—
With their undulating darkness,
And uncurbed luxuriant flow.
Those shoulders' sculptured snow—
With their undulating darkness,
And uncurbed luxuriant flow.
There was more than life and gladness
In her countenance and mien,
And she trod the earth triumphant,
Like a Prophetess and Queen.
In her countenance and mien,
And she trod the earth triumphant,
Like a Prophetess and Queen.
She looked all an Inspiration—
Scarce you steadfastly might gaze!—
Proud the plumes' triumphal waving,
Bright the jewels' festal blaze!—
Scarce you steadfastly might gaze!—
Proud the plumes' triumphal waving,
Bright the jewels' festal blaze!—
69
Stay!—she pauses!—mark!—she faulters!—
With a gracious pity now—
She lifts that hand, transparent—
To her throbbing, burning brow.
With a gracious pity now—
She lifts that hand, transparent—
To her throbbing, burning brow.
For her wrong'd and injured rival,
She can gently sorrowing feel:
For she knows the maddening miseries,
Words may serve not to reveal.
She can gently sorrowing feel:
For she knows the maddening miseries,
Words may serve not to reveal.
Away with words!—the Unmakers
Of our noblest thoughts are they!—
We would speak our souls in fulness—
And we change once more to clay!—
Of our noblest thoughts are they!—
We would speak our souls in fulness—
And we change once more to clay!—
Thoughts have come in Lightning-splendours!
Through our souls they sweep in storms!—
We are Gods in their great Silence—
But we Speak!—and we are worms!—
Through our souls they sweep in storms!—
We are Gods in their great Silence—
But we Speak!—and we are worms!—
70
Away with words!—the Unmakers
Of our noblest—loftiest moods—
The Spirit when least earth-touched—
On itself in silence broods!
Of our noblest—loftiest moods—
The Spirit when least earth-touched—
On itself in silence broods!
Yet faultering words officious—
At our lips still lie in wait—
To do their ill-done service—
And to bear their ill-borne freight.
At our lips still lie in wait—
To do their ill-done service—
And to bear their ill-borne freight.
And thus did Lillia-Bianca—
Speak in broken speech and faint—
Her gentle voice still sounded
Like the long-accustomed plaint.
Speak in broken speech and faint—
Her gentle voice still sounded
Like the long-accustomed plaint.
So modulated surely,
To melodious tones of woe,
In that same strain e'en in gladness,
Still unconsciously 'twill flow!
To melodious tones of woe,
In that same strain e'en in gladness,
Still unconsciously 'twill flow!
71
From her lips thus bursting—wandered
The unpremeditated strain,
Of power, and pride, and pleasure,—
Of the battling Peace—and Pain!—
The unpremeditated strain,
Of power, and pride, and pleasure,—
Of the battling Peace—and Pain!—
“I am glad!—yet wherefore—wherefore!—
That his love hath ebbed from Her!—
Oh! by grief long wrung, and outraged
May my feverish judgments err!
That his love hath ebbed from Her!—
Oh! by grief long wrung, and outraged
May my feverish judgments err!
“He may cease to love my rival;
But, Oh! Heaven! he may not burn
With the once-o'erpow'ring passion—
Nor to my scorned love return!
But, Oh! Heaven! he may not burn
With the once-o'erpow'ring passion—
Nor to my scorned love return!
“I have snatched with phrenzied hurry,
At this Hope that gleamed to bless—
From the depths of such despairing
Mad to glimpse such happiness!
At this Hope that gleamed to bless—
From the depths of such despairing
Mad to glimpse such happiness!
72
“I must struggle now to temper,
And to govern and controul
All these wild and whirling visions,
And these workings of the soul!
And to govern and controul
All these wild and whirling visions,
And these workings of the soul!
“But I love thee!—Oh! how madly,
More than tongue inspired could tell;
Let the searching Heaven above me
But pronounce how wildly well.
More than tongue inspired could tell;
Let the searching Heaven above me
But pronounce how wildly well.
“Thoughts of thee erewhile have shaken
All my shivering shrinking frame,
As 'twere even to dissolution,
While the air I breathed was flame.—
All my shivering shrinking frame,
As 'twere even to dissolution,
While the air I breathed was flame.—
“All my soul was desolation—
And the shadow of one fear,
Which it shrunk from—ever—ever—
Oh! the giant gloom and drear!”
And the shadow of one fear,
Which it shrunk from—ever—ever—
Oh! the giant gloom and drear!”
73
And she wrestled with her Gladness,
As 'twere e'en another Grief;
And she gained a bitter victory,
In one little hour and brief.
As 'twere e'en another Grief;
And she gained a bitter victory,
In one little hour and brief.
“And how could I—soon contented,
Soon appeased, and soon beguiled,
Throw away grave thoughts of injury—
Like a vexed and straight-soothed child!
Soon appeased, and soon beguiled,
Throw away grave thoughts of injury—
Like a vexed and straight-soothed child!
“Woman's pride, and woman's honour,
Other deeds and shows demand—
With a solemn voice imperious,
Now, at the outraged Sufferer's hand.”
Other deeds and shows demand—
With a solemn voice imperious,
Now, at the outraged Sufferer's hand.”
And she struggled still and proudly,
Till she rose up in her strength,
From the whelming floods of Passion
To a thoughtful Scorn at length!—
Till she rose up in her strength,
From the whelming floods of Passion
To a thoughtful Scorn at length!—
74
Could she honour that frail Lover,
Who, by double falsehood, now
All his knighthood's fame had sullied,
And had stained his princely brow!
Who, by double falsehood, now
All his knighthood's fame had sullied,
And had stained his princely brow!
But her noble sire rejoicing,
Saw the livelier colours play
O'er her cheek and lip of freshness—
And in nought would her gainsay!
Saw the livelier colours play
O'er her cheek and lip of freshness—
And in nought would her gainsay!
Days on days passed slowly—vanished—
And suspense grew sore and sick,—
How whene'er she saw a letter—
Came her troubled breathings thick!
And suspense grew sore and sick,—
How whene'er she saw a letter—
Came her troubled breathings thick!
At last a letter cometh
From the false one, now afar,—
'Twas a prayerful letter, written
By Leonardo del' Alvar!—
From the false one, now afar,—
'Twas a prayerful letter, written
By Leonardo del' Alvar!—
75
And she read it—ofttimes over,
And devoured it in her heart—
And her soul bowed down to bless it,—
And adore it—part by part!—
And devoured it in her heart—
And her soul bowed down to bless it,—
And adore it—part by part!—
Human nature—Woman's nature,
Could not this delight resist;
She had borne pain's death-pangs lingering,
'Twas such rapture to exist!—
Could not this delight resist;
She had borne pain's death-pangs lingering,
'Twas such rapture to exist!—
For with Love alone seem'd coming
True deep Life to heart and brain—
She had lingered—she had languished—
Long in deathlike swoons of pain.
True deep Life to heart and brain—
She had lingered—she had languished—
Long in deathlike swoons of pain.
But full swiftly she recovered
From that fond and melting mood—
To her brow rushed soul and firmness—
To her cheek the blaze of blood!
From that fond and melting mood—
To her brow rushed soul and firmness—
To her cheek the blaze of blood!
76
“Shall I not be now the avengeress?—
Yes! a noble one, and brave;
I will punish—will chastise thee—
Then will pardon thee, and save.
Yes! a noble one, and brave;
I will punish—will chastise thee—
Then will pardon thee, and save.
“I will wash from thy dimmed honour,
Leonardo!—Oh!—my Love!—
The stain that there remaineth—
I will punish thee, and prove!
Leonardo!—Oh!—my Love!—
The stain that there remaineth—
I will punish thee, and prove!
“And I may not try thee lightly,
Cruel Lover and false friend!
I must try thee sore and sharply,—
Mayst thou bear on to the end!
Cruel Lover and false friend!
I must try thee sore and sharply,—
Mayst thou bear on to the end!
“Then thy holy deep contrition
May win grace for every wrong;
Remorse and pain must chasten,
One—foul treachery stained so long!
May win grace for every wrong;
Remorse and pain must chasten,
One—foul treachery stained so long!
77
“Yet may I not be despiteous!—
I have loved thee, and I love!—
All language—and all showing,
All dreams and deeds—above!
I have loved thee, and I love!—
All language—and all showing,
All dreams and deeds—above!
“I would kill thy faults and follies,
To thy soul fresh life to give!—
I would kill thy soul's distempers—
And save Love and Truth alive!
To thy soul fresh life to give!—
I would kill thy soul's distempers—
And save Love and Truth alive!
“Blessed penitence shall lave thee
Free from all thy faults at last;
Heaven forgive, as I forgive thee,
All the dire injurious past!”
Free from all thy faults at last;
Heaven forgive, as I forgive thee,
All the dire injurious past!”
Now her confidential maiden,
Ev'n the one she trusted most,
Quick she called unto her presence—
And did solemnly accost!
Ev'n the one she trusted most,
Quick she called unto her presence—
And did solemnly accost!
78
“Fiordilisa! yester even
I did tell thee secret things—
And bade thee guard my treasure
From Suspicion's wanderings!
I did tell thee secret things—
And bade thee guard my treasure
From Suspicion's wanderings!
“Now I stand resolved and 'stablished
In that purpose deep and dark;
And 'tis thou must yield assistance!—
Mind! my gentle maid—and mark!
In that purpose deep and dark;
And 'tis thou must yield assistance!—
Mind! my gentle maid—and mark!
“Fiordilisa! haste!—my maiden!
Make it seem that I am dead;
Dress this image up in shroudings,—
Be the webb of mourning spread!—
Make it seem that I am dead;
Dress this image up in shroudings,—
Be the webb of mourning spread!—
“To my dear, and thrice-dear Father,
I will speed to gain consent,
To that scheme I have imagined—
On which all my Soul is bent.”
I will speed to gain consent,
To that scheme I have imagined—
On which all my Soul is bent.”
79
To her Sire the Ladye goeth,
And his dear consent she gains;
While once more unto his bosom
His own peerless child he strains!
And his dear consent she gains;
While once more unto his bosom
His own peerless child he strains!
“I will guard thy mighty secret,
But this pageant will give pain
To this loving heart paternal,—
I must feel, though I must feign.
But this pageant will give pain
To this loving heart paternal,—
I must feel, though I must feign.
“Thy mock funeral—dearest daughter!—
I will carefully conduct—
So that nothing shall thy wishes
Spring to thwart—or chance to obstruct!”
I will carefully conduct—
So that nothing shall thy wishes
Spring to thwart—or chance to obstruct!”
“Bless my Father!—bless thy goodness!”
Sobbed that softened Ladye forth;
“Ne'er yet lived there such dear Father—
Of all tenderness and worth!”
Sobbed that softened Ladye forth;
“Ne'er yet lived there such dear Father—
Of all tenderness and worth!”
80
“Should I find Leonardo troubled
By contrition's gracious might,
I shall shorten then his trial—
Shall speed on, his Soul's delight!
By contrition's gracious might,
I shall shorten then his trial—
Shall speed on, his Soul's delight!
“If my mournful funeral tidings
Should much agonize his heart—
I have given the solemn lesson!—
I have done my painful part!
Should much agonize his heart—
I have given the solemn lesson!—
I have done my painful part!
“But should chance he seem light-sorrowingly,
These deathful news to hear,
I will nurse the dark deception
Till I make him feel and fear!—
These deathful news to hear,
I will nurse the dark deception
Till I make him feel and fear!—
“Till with skilful hand I open
All the gates of Love and Pain,
So that all the Friend and Lover
Yet may flow and live again!—
All the gates of Love and Pain,
So that all the Friend and Lover
Yet may flow and live again!—
81
“Give it out, then, Oh! my Father,
That thy child is sick to death—
And let men thus hear to-morrow
Of thy Lillia-Bianca's death!”
That thy child is sick to death—
And let men thus hear to-morrow
Of thy Lillia-Bianca's death!”
With kind blessings and embracings
Then the old man let her go—
And she hied back to her chamber:—
“Fiordilisa!—thou'rt but slow!—
Then the old man let her go—
And she hied back to her chamber:—
“Fiordilisa!—thou'rt but slow!—
“Speed, Oh! speed thy preparations!—
Our departure is at hand!”
Through the corridors how sweetly
Rang that clear voice of command!
Our departure is at hand!”
Through the corridors how sweetly
Rang that clear voice of command!
But none were within hearing,
Save that confidential maid,
All the others hither—thither—
Had been sent—their schemes to aid.
Save that confidential maid,
All the others hither—thither—
Had been sent—their schemes to aid.
82
“Now two pages in our seeming
We will go forth—this same night;—
As our guard comes with us Marco;
And the Saints guide all aright!
We will go forth—this same night;—
As our guard comes with us Marco;
And the Saints guide all aright!
“On our way we must go darkly,
E'en to look upon her face—
Who hath been my haughty rival—
Who hath wrought my sore disgrace!
E'en to look upon her face—
Who hath been my haughty rival—
Who hath wrought my sore disgrace!
“Yes! I must—I must behold her,
'Tis a childish wish, perchance—
But I feel I must look on her,
If 'tis but one lightning glance!
'Tis a childish wish, perchance—
But I feel I must look on her,
If 'tis but one lightning glance!
“I have dreamt of her for ever,—
Bright with strange and Sorceress grace;
Oh!—I must—whate'er betideth,
Look on Theodelinda's face!
Bright with strange and Sorceress grace;
Oh!—I must—whate'er betideth,
Look on Theodelinda's face!
83
“Then on, on, to Alvar quickly—
To bear him tidings dark,
Of my death, and of my burial;
Now—my gentle Maiden!—mark!”
To bear him tidings dark,
Of my death, and of my burial;
Now—my gentle Maiden!—mark!”
And she takes two pages' garments,
And straight one she giveth there,
To the wondering Fiordilisa,
That lovely maid and fair.
And straight one she giveth there,
To the wondering Fiordilisa,
That lovely maid and fair.
“Now two pages in our seeming
We will speed to thee—Alvar!—
Thou'st forsaken Theodelinda—
Once thy changeful spirit's star!”
We will speed to thee—Alvar!—
Thou'st forsaken Theodelinda—
Once thy changeful spirit's star!”
To herself these words she muttered
And she donn'd her page's dress—
And her brow is flushed with trouble,
Of a dubious happiness!—
And she donn'd her page's dress—
And her brow is flushed with trouble,
Of a dubious happiness!—
84
“Thou hast made two maidens wretched,
And canst thou be happy—thou?”—
And the varying lights and shadows
Still past fitful o'er her brow!—
And canst thou be happy—thou?”—
And the varying lights and shadows
Still past fitful o'er her brow!—
She hath brightened back to Beauty,
Since her Lover's change of heart—
What rich eloquent suffusions
To her cheek triumphant start!—
Since her Lover's change of heart—
What rich eloquent suffusions
To her cheek triumphant start!—
She the sultry-souled and ardent—
She stood beautiful as Night—
When ten thousand worlds of glory
Make the shadowy Suzerain bright.
She stood beautiful as Night—
When ten thousand worlds of glory
Make the shadowy Suzerain bright.
Yet as fair as fervid Summer,
When she melts o'er mount and plain,
With a flush of royal roses—
Dyed with Sunset's life-blood stain!
When she melts o'er mount and plain,
With a flush of royal roses—
Dyed with Sunset's life-blood stain!
85
“Oh! my Father, vain and hopeless
Were thy tenderest ministerings,
Till the Dove, long sorely wounded,
Found once more her heart and wings!
Were thy tenderest ministerings,
Till the Dove, long sorely wounded,
Found once more her heart and wings!
“When to thee, returning fondly,
Shall thy Lillia-Bianca come,—
Oh! how beautiful with gladness
Shall be then our mutual home!
Shall thy Lillia-Bianca come,—
Oh! how beautiful with gladness
Shall be then our mutual home!
“And if—if the Marriage garlands
Should wreathe round my virgin brow—
Still Oh! let me tend thee, Father!
Ev'n till melts that dear head's snow!”
Should wreathe round my virgin brow—
Still Oh! let me tend thee, Father!
Ev'n till melts that dear head's snow!”
“Up!—now forward! Maiden—forward!—
For I hear our coursers neigh;
And awaits us stalworth Marco—
Forward! forward!—while we may!”
For I hear our coursers neigh;
And awaits us stalworth Marco—
Forward! forward!—while we may!”
86
And old faithful Marco waiteth!—
What a contrast doth he show
To those two travestied Maidens,
Then prepared with him to go!
What a contrast doth he show
To those two travestied Maidens,
Then prepared with him to go!
And old rugged Marco waiteth!—
What a contrast—then and there—
He presents!—while, like a snow-storm,
Floats his venerable hair!
What a contrast—then and there—
He presents!—while, like a snow-storm,
Floats his venerable hair!
The Republic's veteran soldier,
For “The Lion” he hath fought!—
Like a tower of strength—of iron—
Stands that hardy frame and haught!
For “The Lion” he hath fought!—
Like a tower of strength—of iron—
Stands that hardy frame and haught!
And their coursers were awaiting,
And they mounted and rode on,
Though steepy and circuitous
Were the secret paths they won.
And they mounted and rode on,
Though steepy and circuitous
Were the secret paths they won.
87
For, afraid of recognition,
Lillia-Bianca still with care
Each frequented road avoided,
And each public thoroughfare.
Lillia-Bianca still with care
Each frequented road avoided,
And each public thoroughfare.
“Track that ledge of rock, though narrow!
Let thy stirrup's grazing shock
Dint the mountain-wall beside thee!
Dangerous frowns this ride of rock!
Let thy stirrup's grazing shock
Dint the mountain-wall beside thee!
Dangerous frowns this ride of rock!
“Quick! now hurry—hurry!—midnight
Soon will veil your onward way!”
Pause—and let the page-clad pilgrims
Now repose them as they may.
Soon will veil your onward way!”
Pause—and let the page-clad pilgrims
Now repose them as they may.
It is morning—glorious morning,
And she cometh in a flood!
O'er the earth a Light-poured Deluge—
Bright as 'twere the red Sun's blood!
And she cometh in a flood!
O'er the earth a Light-poured Deluge—
Bright as 'twere the red Sun's blood!
88
“Oh! I tremble!—Fiordilisa!—
I shall look upon that form,
That had nigh wrecked all my fortunes
In despair's on-sweeping storm!”
I shall look upon that form,
That had nigh wrecked all my fortunes
In despair's on-sweeping storm!”
Gently moved they onwards—onwards—
Through pleach'd rosaries—all sweet thorn!—
Through deep thickets twined of myrtle
To the Place of the Forlorn!
Through pleach'd rosaries—all sweet thorn!—
Through deep thickets twined of myrtle
To the Place of the Forlorn!
There were walks all labyrinthine,
And a hundred thick-trained bowers;
And their footsteps fell most lightly,
Where they passed—like flowers o'er flowers!—
And a hundred thick-trained bowers;
And their footsteps fell most lightly,
Where they passed—like flowers o'er flowers!—
Like to flower-leaves lightly scattered,
So their noiseless footsteps fell,
Till they came to a Pavilion,
Where the Maid awhile did dwell.
So their noiseless footsteps fell,
Till they came to a Pavilion,
Where the Maid awhile did dwell.
89
Then a smothered sound of wailing
Came full softly on the ear;
And paused there Lillia-Bianca—
As in sudden swoon of fear.
Came full softly on the ear;
And paused there Lillia-Bianca—
As in sudden swoon of fear.
Her companion gently motioned—
And some few steps she advanced;
Then she paused again, bewildered,—
And all troubled and entranced.
And some few steps she advanced;
Then she paused again, bewildered,—
And all troubled and entranced.
In the midst of that Pavilion
Sate a Lady deathly pale—
Her unbanded hair fell streaming
Thick around her, like a veil.
Sate a Lady deathly pale—
Her unbanded hair fell streaming
Thick around her, like a veil.
It was rich in lustrous beauty,
And around her form did fling
Its fair folds, as to enshroud her,
Like some loving angel's wing!
And around her form did fling
Its fair folds, as to enshroud her,
Like some loving angel's wing!
90
'Twas her northern Mother's colouring
Gave that hair's bright tints of gold;
And her eyes were blue and beauteous,
Although now in anguish rolled.
Gave that hair's bright tints of gold;
And her eyes were blue and beauteous,
Although now in anguish rolled.
“Let me speak to thy Distraction!
Let me kneel to thy Despair!”
Murmured gentlest Lillia-Bianca,
Standing pity-melted there!
Let me kneel to thy Despair!”
Murmured gentlest Lillia-Bianca,
Standing pity-melted there!
Theodelinda raised in sadness—
Now those blue-heaven eyes above—
And they looked as she demanded,
E'en that hour to die for love!
Now those blue-heaven eyes above—
And they looked as she demanded,
E'en that hour to die for love!
'Twas with such a glance imploring,
Searched her deep and dreaming eyes—
The speechless—sealed—the unopening—
Oh! the unsympathizing Skies!—
Searched her deep and dreaming eyes—
The speechless—sealed—the unopening—
Oh! the unsympathizing Skies!—
91
Then forth her burthened bosom
Broke faint accents,—sad and deep!
While she rocked herself as mothers
Rock their wearied ones to sleep!
Broke faint accents,—sad and deep!
While she rocked herself as mothers
Rock their wearied ones to sleep!
“I was silent—I was breathless—
When I heard my bitter doom;
For I felt as 'twere the crushing
Of some Mountain-ponderous Tomb!
When I heard my bitter doom;
For I felt as 'twere the crushing
Of some Mountain-ponderous Tomb!
“And what were life and language?
Ah! can they restore flown love?
I have lost on earth my blessing—
I will seek it still above!
Ah! can they restore flown love?
I have lost on earth my blessing—
I will seek it still above!
“I am wretched as the Hopeless,
Who have nothing left below
But the dear and deadly treasure
Of their Earth-o'ershadowing woe!
Who have nothing left below
But the dear and deadly treasure
Of their Earth-o'ershadowing woe!
92
“Or worse than all their sorrows—
Worse than every pang beside—
The warm memory of their transport
With redoubled beauty dyed!
Worse than every pang beside—
The warm memory of their transport
With redoubled beauty dyed!
“Looking back to parted pleasure—
To a heaven our own no more—
Makes it seem sevenfold a heaven—
Lights it thousand sweet times o'er!
To a heaven our own no more—
Makes it seem sevenfold a heaven—
Lights it thousand sweet times o'er!
“And my memories are my madness,
And they grow yet more distinct,
As the Life-chain vainly lengthened—
Soft—is gradually unlinked.
And they grow yet more distinct,
As the Life-chain vainly lengthened—
Soft—is gradually unlinked.
“Imperceptibly, but surely
Still unlinked—so prays my Heart!
It hath known Love's deepest triumph—
That hath perished—let it part!
Still unlinked—so prays my Heart!
It hath known Love's deepest triumph—
That hath perished—let it part!
93
“Oh! these words, so weakly clothing
All my mighty worlds of woe!
They are like the mists which coldly
Round earth's Giant-features go.
All my mighty worlds of woe!
They are like the mists which coldly
Round earth's Giant-features go.
“What those mists are, in their faintness,
To the solid world beneath,
Are the words of this cold language
To my Heart's great sphere of death!
To the solid world beneath,
Are the words of this cold language
To my Heart's great sphere of death!
“How I scorn, with utter scorning,
How detest—loathe—long and late—
Ah!—not thee!—Unworthiest Lover!—
'Tis myself—myself I hate!
How detest—loathe—long and late—
Ah!—not thee!—Unworthiest Lover!—
'Tis myself—myself I hate!
And her head sank faint and heavy
On her alabaster arms;
And the mantling hair fell round her,
As to hide her mournful charms.
On her alabaster arms;
And the mantling hair fell round her,
As to hide her mournful charms.
94
And the sunbeams kissed those tresses
Into lustres like their own!
Ah! a gloomier, darker mantle
Should around that form be thrown.
Into lustres like their own!
Ah! a gloomier, darker mantle
Should around that form be thrown.
There were sounds of heavy weeping,
And she raised her stately head;
For she thought her wail was echoed,
And she hushed her cry in dread.
And she raised her stately head;
For she thought her wail was echoed,
And she hushed her cry in dread.
Thou too hushed thy wail—the bitterest—
Lillia-Bianca—loveliest Maid!—
Whose gentle, loving spirit
Was by pity all dismayed!
Lillia-Bianca—loveliest Maid!—
Whose gentle, loving spirit
Was by pity all dismayed!
“Oh I know—I know her anguish—
Every portion—every part!
I have had it here, and nursed it
At mine own distracted Heart!
Every portion—every part!
I have had it here, and nursed it
At mine own distracted Heart!
95
“With thy bitter voice of plaining
My lament I well might blend;
For that grief, to thee a Stranger,
Is my long-familiar Friend!
My lament I well might blend;
For that grief, to thee a Stranger,
Is my long-familiar Friend!
“All thy burthen, deep and dreadful,
I so utterly have known,
That to me thy Soul, thus sorrowing,
Seems to be my very own!
I so utterly have known,
That to me thy Soul, thus sorrowing,
Seems to be my very own!
“Still all spirits that are living—
Which in dreariment may pine—
Unto me—their Sister-sorrow!
Now should seem mine own—e'en mine!
Which in dreariment may pine—
Unto me—their Sister-sorrow!
Now should seem mine own—e'en mine!
“Leonardo!—false Leonardo!—
What dark evil power thou hast won!—
Two fond hearts of truth and feeling
By thy falsehood faint undone!
What dark evil power thou hast won!—
Two fond hearts of truth and feeling
By thy falsehood faint undone!
96
“Ah! mine own I feel can never
Be the joyous thing 'twas long—
Ere athwart its chords deep-thrilling,
Passion's mighty wind rushed strong!
Be the joyous thing 'twas long—
Ere athwart its chords deep-thrilling,
Passion's mighty wind rushed strong!
“And ten thousand, thousand sorrows
Racked its every pulse to pain—
Oh! it never can be joyous
As it was of yore—again!
Racked its every pulse to pain—
Oh! it never can be joyous
As it was of yore—again!
“Thou hast murdered many a feeling,
Once of life—delicious part!—
Thou hast murdered me in spirit—
Cold assassin of the Heart!
Once of life—delicious part!—
Thou hast murdered me in spirit—
Cold assassin of the Heart!
“And the unhappiest Theodelinda,
She must strive and struggle now
With the agonies that blighted
All my bosom and my brow!”
She must strive and struggle now
With the agonies that blighted
All my bosom and my brow!”
97
“Ah! my blood, in pride and anger,
Should roll high, like waves of fire!—
But upbraidings melt to blessings,
When Love strives to speak in ire!”
Should roll high, like waves of fire!—
But upbraidings melt to blessings,
When Love strives to speak in ire!”
And they passed still onwards—onwards—
Those young travellers strange and rare!
And they came at last in silence
To the Lover's dwelling fair.
Those young travellers strange and rare!
And they came at last in silence
To the Lover's dwelling fair.
They had undergone dread hardships—
'Scaped from many a brigand band
Ev'n with mickle pain and trouble!
But, behold! the promised Land!
'Scaped from many a brigand band
Ev'n with mickle pain and trouble!
But, behold! the promised Land!
They had fainted, all exhausted
By fatigues unused and dire!
But still nothing had o'ercome them—
Nor their fortitude—nor fire!
By fatigues unused and dire!
But still nothing had o'ercome them—
Nor their fortitude—nor fire!
98
And their faithful guide—old Marco!—
Had with wondering gladness seen;
This their noble, calm endurance—
This their fortitude serene!
Had with wondering gladness seen;
This their noble, calm endurance—
This their fortitude serene!
But their perils now were over,
And their penances and pain;
At the lofty Lord's proud Mansion
Now the weary three draw rein.
And their penances and pain;
At the lofty Lord's proud Mansion
Now the weary three draw rein.
They demanded straight an entrance,
And an entrance straight obtained!
(Lillia-Bianca faultered—faultered—
But her 'stablished will remained!)
And an entrance straight obtained!
(Lillia-Bianca faultered—faultered—
But her 'stablished will remained!)
These the marble flights ascended
Of the arched statue-guarded stairs;
Lillia-Bianca shuddered—shuddered,
As o'ercome by old despairs!
Of the arched statue-guarded stairs;
Lillia-Bianca shuddered—shuddered,
As o'ercome by old despairs!
99
In the antechamber—followers
Of the Count accosting her—
Whispered soon he would receive them—
How her creeping heart-strings stir!
Of the Count accosting her—
Whispered soon he would receive them—
How her creeping heart-strings stir!
Every thought becomes a tempest—
All her silence is a storm!—
While all quiv'ring with the anguish
Bends that frail and fragile form!
All her silence is a storm!—
While all quiv'ring with the anguish
Bends that frail and fragile form!
Every thought is made tempestuous—
She is bowed by doubt and shame!
Seems that form of broken beauty,
Fluttering—flickering—like a flame!
She is bowed by doubt and shame!
Seems that form of broken beauty,
Fluttering—flickering—like a flame!
Now broad valves of state, flung inward,
Show Mosaic floors of pride!
They are called to Alvar's presence—
Lillia-Bianca's faint heart died!
Show Mosaic floors of pride!
They are called to Alvar's presence—
Lillia-Bianca's faint heart died!
100
With a shock of strange amazement
Then she heard the announcement given,
As she had not come expressly—
For this hour—toiled—watched—and striven!—
Then she heard the announcement given,
As she had not come expressly—
For this hour—toiled—watched—and striven!—
Lovely—loveliest Lillia-Bianca!—
How thou hast laboured and endured!
How thy Miracles of Beauty
Are by that strange guise obscured!
How thou hast laboured and endured!
How thy Miracles of Beauty
Are by that strange guise obscured!
Little now that garb revealeth
Of the wonders of thy face—
Of thine aspect's charm celestial,
And thy slight form's willowy grace.
Of the wonders of thy face—
Of thine aspect's charm celestial,
And thy slight form's willowy grace.
On her head a cap of velvet
Comes low down upon her brow;
And a long, long drooping feather
Shadoweth those sweet features now.
Comes low down upon her brow;
And a long, long drooping feather
Shadoweth those sweet features now.
101
The wild rain and wind have beaten
That long feather o'er her face;
And scarce one lovely feature
Of the seeming page you trace.
That long feather o'er her face;
And scarce one lovely feature
Of the seeming page you trace.
The ample cloak of deepest sable
Falls, wrapp'd thick in many a fold
Around that shrinking figure,—
Full in heavy draperies rolled.
Falls, wrapp'd thick in many a fold
Around that shrinking figure,—
Full in heavy draperies rolled.
And from head to foot clad darkly,
In the deepest mourning, stand
Those two youthful pages, either
With a letter in their hand.
In the deepest mourning, stand
Those two youthful pages, either
With a letter in their hand.
(Like some night-black Ethiopian,
With a lovely soul and fair,
Stood each dark-disguised young Maiden,
In Eclipse of Beauty there.
With a lovely soul and fair,
Stood each dark-disguised young Maiden,
In Eclipse of Beauty there.
102
Beneath their frowning garments
Each was fair as snowdrops white,
Like some death-black Ethiopian,
With a lovely soul and bright!)
Each was fair as snowdrops white,
Like some death-black Ethiopian,
With a lovely soul and bright!)
From these he takes the letters,
Notes the garbs of solemn woe;
And then marks these strange despatches—
Are wrapped round with sable too.
Notes the garbs of solemn woe;
And then marks these strange despatches—
Are wrapped round with sable too.
With a most apparent trouble
Doth he ope the first-given scroll;
And a cry of thrilling anguish
Bursts as forth a parting soul!
Doth he ope the first-given scroll;
And a cry of thrilling anguish
Bursts as forth a parting soul!
It was answered by another
As fearful, sharp, and shrill;
Then all was gloom and silence,—
Stood the sable couriers still.
As fearful, sharp, and shrill;
Then all was gloom and silence,—
Stood the sable couriers still.
103
Too much occupied with suffering
Was Leonardo to remark
How his shriek of woe was echoed—
All without—within—was dark!
Was Leonardo to remark
How his shriek of woe was echoed—
All without—within—was dark!
One more moment—he hath started
Like a Maniac to his feet,
With dark hair dashed back all wildly,
While his threatening eyebrows meet!
Like a Maniac to his feet,
With dark hair dashed back all wildly,
While his threatening eyebrows meet!
“How is this?” he fiercely thundered,
With ferocious glance and wild.
“How is this?” himself he echoed,
With a faultering tone and mild.
With ferocious glance and wild.
“How is this?” himself he echoed,
With a faultering tone and mild.
First his startling speech he thundered,
With outrageous strength and wild;
Then repeated it as gently
As a grieved or frightened child!
With outrageous strength and wild;
Then repeated it as gently
As a grieved or frightened child!
104
“Lillia-Bianca!—Lillia-Bianca!—
Have I murdered thee indeed!
Then of pity and of pardon
None like me have bitter need.
Have I murdered thee indeed!
Then of pity and of pardon
None like me have bitter need.
“Thou wert beautiful as morning,
And how full of faith and love!—
My martyred one!—my murdered!—
Oh! my sorely-stricken Dove!
And how full of faith and love!—
My martyred one!—my murdered!—
Oh! my sorely-stricken Dove!
“One look of dear forgiveness
From thy mild imploring eye!
One single glance of pity!—
And how gladly would I die!”
From thy mild imploring eye!
One single glance of pity!—
And how gladly would I die!”
“Oh! but let me haste and soothe him!”
Whispered Lillia-Bianca low—
“Oh! but let me fly and tell him
All 'twill make his bliss to know!
Whispered Lillia-Bianca low—
“Oh! but let me fly and tell him
All 'twill make his bliss to know!
105
“Thousand, thousand times I have suffered
More than thou hast done!—mine own!
And to see thee bowed in sorrow—
'Tis an anguish yet unknown!
More than thou hast done!—mine own!
And to see thee bowed in sorrow—
'Tis an anguish yet unknown!
“O! but let me fly with comfort!”
And she struggles where she stands;
For Fiordilisa grasps her
With gentle-violent hands.
And she struggles where she stands;
For Fiordilisa grasps her
With gentle-violent hands.
“Nay! nay!” murmureth Fiordilisa,
“This wild fit may soon pass o'er!
Nay! 'twere best awhile you waited—
Wait, then—wait to hear yet more!”
“This wild fit may soon pass o'er!
Nay! 'twere best awhile you waited—
Wait, then—wait to hear yet more!”
Smothering half that agitation—
Suffering all that maddening pain—
Did the softened Lillia-Bianca
In that desperate strait remain!
Suffering all that maddening pain—
Did the softened Lillia-Bianca
In that desperate strait remain!
106
Her breath was now but gasping—
Quivered painfully her form—
All her soul was a convulsion!
All her stillness—was a storm!—
Quivered painfully her form—
All her soul was a convulsion!
All her stillness—was a storm!—
A storm—concentred—prisoned
In that slight and fragile frame!
All the Seas of Soul were tossing,
Yet she stood there still the same!
In that slight and fragile frame!
All the Seas of Soul were tossing,
Yet she stood there still the same!
From her cold lips hissed a whisper
Of great agony and fear:—
“Oh! but must I stand unaiding,
And see all his tortures here?”
Of great agony and fear:—
“Oh! but must I stand unaiding,
And see all his tortures here?”
“All his tortures may be passing,
All his sorrow may be brief!
Oh! then wait a little longer,
And observe his phrenzied grief!”
All his sorrow may be brief!
Oh! then wait a little longer,
And observe his phrenzied grief!”
107
Now his manly face was buried
In his robes, and in his hands;
When once more it was uplifted,
There ye traced—Fate's stern commands,—
In his robes, and in his hands;
When once more it was uplifted,
There ye traced—Fate's stern commands,—
Fate's stern commands and sentence—
As they had been stamped an age
On that countenance so tortured—
On that livid living page.
As they had been stamped an age
On that countenance so tortured—
On that livid living page.
A change had o'er his aspect
With terrific mystery gone;
And he looked like one for ever,
And for evermore undone!—
With terrific mystery gone;
And he looked like one for ever,
And for evermore undone!—
Even his very features altered—
Marred—crushed—horribly appeared—
And within the Conscience burning—
Hath the outward semblance seared!—
Marred—crushed—horribly appeared—
And within the Conscience burning—
Hath the outward semblance seared!—
108
Not alone the Conscience maddened
Then that grief-distracted mind—
Every memory of affection
Pierced with thousand pangs refined!
Then that grief-distracted mind—
Every memory of affection
Pierced with thousand pangs refined!
In such hours man surely liveth
Centuries—Centuries of despair—
And the o'er wounded heart is working
With a giant's great strength there!—
Centuries—Centuries of despair—
And the o'er wounded heart is working
With a giant's great strength there!—
The heart!—that mighty Labourer,
Or for Evil—or for Good—
Who its legions of wild feeling
And deep powers—hath e'er withstood?
Or for Evil—or for Good—
Who its legions of wild feeling
And deep powers—hath e'er withstood?
It can build up worlds at pleasure,
If its pulses' play be free;—
Or can crush down all creation
To Chaotic Agony.
If its pulses' play be free;—
Or can crush down all creation
To Chaotic Agony.
109
The heart!—the unuttered mystery—
Mighty thus in weakness e'en!—
It can stamp its own dread image
On this universal Scene!
Mighty thus in weakness e'en!—
It can stamp its own dread image
On this universal Scene!
Yes!—it well can make Creation
Chaos of all agonies!—
And the heart of him who struggleth,
There in grief—self-rule defies!—
Chaos of all agonies!—
And the heart of him who struggleth,
There in grief—self-rule defies!—
(He can sway not those wild pulses—
That plunge deep into their pain—
As to know the worst of misery—
Were to taste some bliss again!)
That plunge deep into their pain—
As to know the worst of misery—
Were to taste some bliss again!)
On itself—itself revenging—
Still all the evil it hath done—
With a luxury of abhorrence
Never yet to others shown!—
Still all the evil it hath done—
With a luxury of abhorrence
Never yet to others shown!—
110
A luxury of inhuman,
Most unnatural hatred there—
Full displayed, that never, never—
Man could give for other's share!
Most unnatural hatred there—
Full displayed, that never, never—
Man could give for other's share!
On itself the heart—grown desperate—
Thus will exercise in pride,
Such excess of indignation,
As 'twould show to none beside.
Thus will exercise in pride,
Such excess of indignation,
As 'twould show to none beside.
All his face seems now convulsion,
While drops faint his powerless hand—
Beaded thick along his forehead
Clammy drops of suffering stand!—
While drops faint his powerless hand—
Beaded thick along his forehead
Clammy drops of suffering stand!—
“Lillia-Bianca! Lillia Bianca!—
Best and brightest One!—farewell!—
In thy Virgin grave of sorrow—
Thou wilt softly slumbering dwell!—
Best and brightest One!—farewell!—
In thy Virgin grave of sorrow—
Thou wilt softly slumbering dwell!—
111
“Thou art buried in thy beauty,
Thou art buried in thy bloom:
Would that on my heart was pressing
Now thy ponderous marble tomb!
Thou art buried in thy bloom:
Would that on my heart was pressing
Now thy ponderous marble tomb!
“All my thoughts are tossing—tossing,
Like a thousand waves of fire;
I am stunned and o'er bewildered—
Do I feel, and still respire!—
Like a thousand waves of fire;
I am stunned and o'er bewildered—
Do I feel, and still respire!—
“Is this life still that inhabits
This accursed and blasted form?—
Oh! thou dust of death and ruin—
Take the vainly-writhing worm!—
This accursed and blasted form?—
Oh! thou dust of death and ruin—
Take the vainly-writhing worm!—
“So! one comfort still remaineth;
One—yet, one shall be mine own!”
Whispered Fiordilisa—shuddering—
“Haste—speak!—speak!”—in faultering tone.
One—yet, one shall be mine own!”
Whispered Fiordilisa—shuddering—
“Haste—speak!—speak!”—in faultering tone.
112
“Nay, he thinks of Theodelinda—
I may scarce approach him yet!”
While her streaming eyes she straineth—
While her gaze on him is set!
I may scarce approach him yet!”
While her streaming eyes she straineth—
While her gaze on him is set!
“Oh!—'tis thus he dreams of comfort!”—
Scarce the words were said, when lo!—
All her soul was up in horror,
For she saw—she felt a blow!—
Scarce the words were said, when lo!—
All her soul was up in horror,
For she saw—she felt a blow!—
A blow at his loved bosom—
Swift—right sudden—sharp and strong—
And a stream of blood reeked flowing
To her rooted feet along!—
Swift—right sudden—sharp and strong—
And a stream of blood reeked flowing
To her rooted feet along!—
Well the poniard's point was sharpened,
Well it answered to his call!
What a shriek rushed up to Heaven-throne
While she saw—heard—felt that fall!
Well it answered to his call!
What a shriek rushed up to Heaven-throne
While she saw—heard—felt that fall!
113
What a curdling exclamation
Ploughed its way through soul and heart!—
At that shock—the life-uprooting—
Seemed her very voice to start!
Ploughed its way through soul and heart!—
At that shock—the life-uprooting—
Seemed her very voice to start!
All her soul was in the madness
Of strange agony abroad—
Something, something—there hath happened—
What?—her mind refused the load!
Of strange agony abroad—
Something, something—there hath happened—
What?—her mind refused the load!
“Lillia-Bianca! Lillia-Bianca!
Is't thy form?—my faint brain errs!”—
First these sounds came!—then all silence!—
And the rest was Death's!—not Hers.
Is't thy form?—my faint brain errs!”—
First these sounds came!—then all silence!—
And the rest was Death's!—not Hers.
“Lillia-Bianca!—Lillia Bianca!
Is't then Death's? and is't not Thine?
Oh! thy soul winged fast on anguish,
Following—following—murmured ‘mine!’”
Is't then Death's? and is't not Thine?
Oh! thy soul winged fast on anguish,
Following—following—murmured ‘mine!’”
114
[OMITTED]
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There's a band of black-robed mourners,
In the streets of Venice fair—
Dost thou lie at last in slumber,
Young, pale Daughter of Despair!
In the streets of Venice fair—
Dost thou lie at last in slumber,
Young, pale Daughter of Despair!
On the mountain-heights of anguish,
Long—thou stoodst—too long—alone,
And to thee the grave of sorrow
Must be dearer than a throne!
Long—thou stoodst—too long—alone,
And to thee the grave of sorrow
Must be dearer than a throne!
Divorced wert thou from gladness,
And from tenderness and hope—
And Sunless—Starless—Joyless,
Looked ev'n Heaven's ethereal cope!—
And from tenderness and hope—
And Sunless—Starless—Joyless,
Looked ev'n Heaven's ethereal cope!—
115
And in vain—Oh! hapless Father,
Were thy tenderest ministerings—
Couldst thou give the Dove heart-wounded
Yet once more her blessed wings!—
Were thy tenderest ministerings—
Couldst thou give the Dove heart-wounded
Yet once more her blessed wings!—
But wings—strong wings were given her!—
She hath fled in peace away—
From the poison of Life's pleasures—
And the midnight of its day!
She hath fled in peace away—
From the poison of Life's pleasures—
And the midnight of its day!
Lillia-Bianca—Lillia-Bianca!—
The unimaginably Bright!—
For thee was the earth for ever
But a desert and a night!—
The unimaginably Bright!—
For thee was the earth for ever
But a desert and a night!—
Lillia-Bianca!—Lillia-Bianca!—
Thou wert bowed by sufferings sore;
One most mighty Grief rose darkening
All thy glad youth deeply o'er!—
Thou wert bowed by sufferings sore;
One most mighty Grief rose darkening
All thy glad youth deeply o'er!—
116
All that Earth could give and Nature,
At thy Virgin feet was thrown;
Yet Love destined thee to sorrow—
And but sorrow was thine own!—
At thy Virgin feet was thrown;
Yet Love destined thee to sorrow—
And but sorrow was thine own!—
THE END.
| Lillia-Bianca | |