Julia Alpinula With The Captive of Stamboul and Other Poems. By J. H. Wiffen |
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LINES
Written beneath a Miniature in the possession of a Friend.
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 | Julia Alpinula |  |
211
LINES Written beneath a Miniature in the possession of a Friend.
1
Go to! what need of voice or verseOur feelings to pourtray,
Whilst, beauty of the Universe!
To thee those feelings stray.
Thy look of loveliest innocence,
Our thrilling pulse, and gaze intense,
Have far more power than they—
To tell how low our spirit kneels,
Our eye admires, and bosom feels.
212
2
The simple chesnut locks, which TasteLoved far too well to braid,
The pearled breast, the cincture chaste,
The eye for musing made,
The lips like Eve's before her fall,
Melting with sweetness,—and o'er all
That melancholy shade,
Flung like a bridal veil, declare
Too much of Angel harboured there:
3
Too much of Angel long to liveOn earth's contracted span,
And these sweet looks of pity give
To such a thing as man;
The fire that lit thy early years,
Attracted by its native spheres,
Its rapid race o'erran,
And, all transformed to light and love,
Shot starlike to the heaven above.
213
4
Though loving eyes stream fast for thee,I know thou wilt not frown,
Nor, freed thyself from pain's decree,
On pain look harshly down;
Though thine are now Elysian hours,
Though heaven with songs, and stars, and flowers,
Thy walk of glory crown,
This tribute of a moment born,
Thou may'st accept, thou wilt not scorn.
5
Why didst thou fade, so fair and young,Ere Autumn seared thy leaf?
O, sweets are doubly loved, when flung
Abroad by winds of grief!
If secret woe thy blossom wrung,
There was one beating heart had sprung
To bring thine own relief,
But ere his love could make it less,
Beauty was lost in lifelessness.
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6
O! then, when still-surviving LoveGrew tearless with his throe,
Hope, heralding thy path above,
Seemed lost to earth below,
And Anguish wished to annihilate
His future with a glance of hate,
There came a pause in woe—
Thou, silent picture of the dead!
Smiled on him, and the chaos fled:
7
Fled—for an hour of calmer thought,Fled—for a mournful tear,
Which though it flowed that thou wert not,
Proved that thou still wert near;
That thou wert near to soothe his pain,
Bring bliss to his bewildered brain,
The assurance to his fear—
Whate'er of others, yet that thou
Didst love him, and dost love him now.
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8
Oh for a spirit's eye to stripThe veil that wraps our race,
And show in new companionship
The parted face to face.
This may not be—yet for awhile—
So sweetly does this Picture smile,
We gaze, and start to trace
All that she was on earth, and even
Almost what she is now in heaven.
| Julia Alpinula | |