 | The Battle-Day and Other Poems |  |
10
II.—The Visit.
Chance lately made me spend a day
Beneath their roof:—'twill well repay,
Thro' those old cloistered walks to stray,
And float on Time's still waves away
Down History's dim romantic coast;
For the marks of many tides are there;
And all is great, and grand, and fair—
Except my hostess and my host.
Beneath their roof:—'twill well repay,
Thro' those old cloistered walks to stray,
And float on Time's still waves away
Down History's dim romantic coast;
For the marks of many tides are there;
And all is great, and grand, and fair—
Except my hostess and my host.
'Twas after dinner:—Thro' the room
The lamps diffused a golden gloom;
From the sideboard gleamed the plate;
The fire glared sullen in the grate;
Dark hung the draperies' crimson fold
Amid the oak-framed pictures old;
Bronzen forms of antique Greece
Grouped the massy mantel-piece;
The crystal glimmered on the board,
And glowed the tropic's luscious hoard;
While fruit and flower, with mimic stain,
Blushed on the fairy porcelain.
The lamps diffused a golden gloom;
From the sideboard gleamed the plate;
The fire glared sullen in the grate;
Dark hung the draperies' crimson fold
Amid the oak-framed pictures old;
Bronzen forms of antique Greece
Grouped the massy mantel-piece;
11
And glowed the tropic's luscious hoard;
While fruit and flower, with mimic stain,
Blushed on the fairy porcelain.
The wind howled wintry thro' the park,
And, breaking on the far-off trees,
Swung their leafless branches stark,
Like wreck upon autumnal seas;
And, now and then, a gust of rain
Swept, pattering, o'er the window-pane,
And then its distant sugh was heard
As the storm alternate stirred
And sobbed itself to rest again.
Beside the fireplace tête-à-tête
My host and I communing sate;
The conversation ebbed to nought—
He sank in sleep, and I in thought;
And then you would have smiled to see
His red face setting gradually
In his white stock's ample fold,
Like a sun in night fogs cold.
He struggled oft—and took a sip—
And pushed a word across his lip;
Vain courtesy!—he gave a snore—
Sank back resigned—and all was o'er.
And, breaking on the far-off trees,
Swung their leafless branches stark,
Like wreck upon autumnal seas;
And, now and then, a gust of rain
Swept, pattering, o'er the window-pane,
And then its distant sugh was heard
As the storm alternate stirred
And sobbed itself to rest again.
Beside the fireplace tête-à-tête
My host and I communing sate;
The conversation ebbed to nought—
He sank in sleep, and I in thought;
And then you would have smiled to see
His red face setting gradually
12
Like a sun in night fogs cold.
He struggled oft—and took a sip—
And pushed a word across his lip;
Vain courtesy!—he gave a snore—
Sank back resigned—and all was o'er.
| The Battle-Day and Other Poems | |