Poems By William Bell Scott. Ballads, Studies from Nature, Sonnets, etc. Illustrated by Seventeen Etchings by the Author and L. Alma Tadema |
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LOVE.
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65
LOVE.
I left the city gates. Through paths of sward,
Where never cloud of dust had fallen, I reached
An opening in a wall of sapling boughs;
I entered, and within more still and cool
It was, and freshness through the air exhaled
From the green ground. Half dusk it was, for round
And round the branches wove a screen from heaven
Of darkest green and varied leaf, 'neath which
Flies thickly humming danced. Sometimes a bird
Flew straightway through, and as its wing might brush
The leaves about your head, it seemed to fear
That it had missed its way. Flowers too were there,
Sprinkled about amidst the grass which grows
Hair-like and thin beneath the shade; bluebells
Tinkling to the small breeze a bee might cause,
And violets, and poppies red and rough
In stem. I passed still deeper through the wood
By this cool path: a wood more kindly cool,
Or harmless of dank poisons or vile beasts
That creep, there cannot be, and yet so wild
And uncouth. Bushes of dusk fruit beside
The pathway from the ground piled up two walls
Of leaves and berries, from which flocked the birds
As I passed on, or lingered with dyed hands
Plucking them listless, and with profuse waste
Pressing their juice out. Other trees were there
Blossoming for a later month. And now,
As from the populous harvest field came sounds
Of hearty laughter, till by distance lost,
And then again heard, as the reapers turned,
A snatch of song, a very pleasant sound,
Beneath a clear sky and thick boughs, a sound
Right happy. So I also sang. The sun
Then found an opening through the stems, to fall
Upon my path; and as I walked across
The flowers upon my right my shadow passed.
Where never cloud of dust had fallen, I reached
An opening in a wall of sapling boughs;
I entered, and within more still and cool
It was, and freshness through the air exhaled
From the green ground. Half dusk it was, for round
And round the branches wove a screen from heaven
Of darkest green and varied leaf, 'neath which
Flies thickly humming danced. Sometimes a bird
Flew straightway through, and as its wing might brush
The leaves about your head, it seemed to fear
That it had missed its way. Flowers too were there,
Sprinkled about amidst the grass which grows
Hair-like and thin beneath the shade; bluebells
Tinkling to the small breeze a bee might cause,
And violets, and poppies red and rough
In stem. I passed still deeper through the wood
By this cool path: a wood more kindly cool,
Or harmless of dank poisons or vile beasts
That creep, there cannot be, and yet so wild
And uncouth. Bushes of dusk fruit beside
66
Of leaves and berries, from which flocked the birds
As I passed on, or lingered with dyed hands
Plucking them listless, and with profuse waste
Pressing their juice out. Other trees were there
Blossoming for a later month. And now,
As from the populous harvest field came sounds
Of hearty laughter, till by distance lost,
And then again heard, as the reapers turned,
A snatch of song, a very pleasant sound,
Beneath a clear sky and thick boughs, a sound
Right happy. So I also sang. The sun
Then found an opening through the stems, to fall
Upon my path; and as I walked across
The flowers upon my right my shadow passed.
A butterfly with purple-velvet wings,
Invested with two lines of dusky gold
And spotted with red spots, upon these flowers
Was feeding, and anon as my shade fell
Upon it, it flew up and went before,
Lighting again until I passed: and so
Continued it. The space more closed and closed
Became, and all between the trees were warped,
Hop-twigs and bindweed running far. Beneath,
A slow stream likewise glent, and secretly
Fed spreading water-lilies, and long reeds
Heavy with seed, which might have made fair pipes,
Cut nicely by the joints, from whence a leaf
Depended. But I thought not of the task,
Watching my guide's dark wings, until the path
Seemed stayed by dense convolvulus and may,
(Largely o'ergrown without the pruner's hands)
And wild white rose. But the dark sphynx-fly lowered
Its flight till nigh the ground, and passed into
The mass of greenery by an interspace
Unseen before; with both my hands I raised,
And parted with my head, full lazily,
The luscious screen at this same interspace.
Invested with two lines of dusky gold
And spotted with red spots, upon these flowers
Was feeding, and anon as my shade fell
Upon it, it flew up and went before,
Lighting again until I passed: and so
Continued it. The space more closed and closed
Became, and all between the trees were warped,
Hop-twigs and bindweed running far. Beneath,
A slow stream likewise glent, and secretly
Fed spreading water-lilies, and long reeds
Heavy with seed, which might have made fair pipes,
67
Depended. But I thought not of the task,
Watching my guide's dark wings, until the path
Seemed stayed by dense convolvulus and may,
(Largely o'ergrown without the pruner's hands)
And wild white rose. But the dark sphynx-fly lowered
Its flight till nigh the ground, and passed into
The mass of greenery by an interspace
Unseen before; with both my hands I raised,
And parted with my head, full lazily,
The luscious screen at this same interspace.
Behold! beneath a peristyle I stand
Of short columnar palms, before me steps
Of fine-shorn grass descend unto a space
Carpeted, curtained, looped with garlands too,
And set all round with woven seats of boughs
Cut roughly from the forest, over which
Uptangling richly to the highest trees,
And waving then even into the air,
Were rare and unknown flowers, and round a fount
(Of which a marble girl, with green feet through
The water and white head, seemed Nymph) bright heaps
Of lily blooms were strewn. But all these things
After the first delight were nought to me;
I was aware of some one near, whose life
The whole seemed imitative of, whose smile
The light seemed intimating to the flowers,
Whose graciousness all round seemed fashioned by.
Quite passively I stretched upon the sward,
Mazed by this unknown beauty, and the swarms
Of moths like that which here had guided me,
And then the influence became more clear,
More fixed, and I beheld a Lady. Round
Her hand, which held some sweet, the insects thronged,
And lighted on her hair. I did not start
With rapture nor surprise, nor did I deem
Myself unworthy of this gardened love,
This goddess-girl, nor said she aught to me;
But by her eyes, which never looked on me,
I said she was the spirit of my life,
And tho' I had not seen her until now,
I still had known her.
Of short columnar palms, before me steps
Of fine-shorn grass descend unto a space
Carpeted, curtained, looped with garlands too,
And set all round with woven seats of boughs
Cut roughly from the forest, over which
Uptangling richly to the highest trees,
And waving then even into the air,
Were rare and unknown flowers, and round a fount
(Of which a marble girl, with green feet through
The water and white head, seemed Nymph) bright heaps
Of lily blooms were strewn. But all these things
After the first delight were nought to me;
I was aware of some one near, whose life
The whole seemed imitative of, whose smile
68
Whose graciousness all round seemed fashioned by.
Quite passively I stretched upon the sward,
Mazed by this unknown beauty, and the swarms
Of moths like that which here had guided me,
And then the influence became more clear,
More fixed, and I beheld a Lady. Round
Her hand, which held some sweet, the insects thronged,
And lighted on her hair. I did not start
With rapture nor surprise, nor did I deem
Myself unworthy of this gardened love,
This goddess-girl, nor said she aught to me;
But by her eyes, which never looked on me,
I said she was the spirit of my life,
And tho' I had not seen her until now,
I still had known her.
She bent down beside
The sward I pressed; she leant on the rude seat
Over me; but I knew not from that hour,
Whether it was mysef I gazed upon,
Or whether I beheld with love intense
And sympathy some higher beings, both
Worthy of each. And she began to sing;
A language which was song was hers,—she sang;
A fragile lute upon her knees she placed,
And, balanced from her neck by cord of silk,
Her fingers gave it speech, yet touched it not,
But her hands hovered o'er it like two birds
With wings still fluttering to descend,—she played.
Soft as the fine tints of a rainbow bound
About a shower that fell not: first her voice
Came on my sense, but scarce articulate;
Then, waxing louder, it ascended heaven
With all its colours brightening. My heart
Is stilled to sleep as a maid stills a child
That murmurs not, but looks still upward on
The watching smile, till its eyes close at last
Unconsciously. But suddenly the notes
Began to whirl together as a flight
Of swallows, and then louder still became,
Happy beyond all words; fair spirits seemed
Clamorous and clapping of their hands for joy!
Too happy beyond words, I would have wept
Had I been in the actual world, where tears
Are bred by stranger sympathy; but here,
Where sympathy was life, I did not weep.
Lady and child at once! I could weep now!
But then the dark hair of thy song fell down,
The eyelid of thy music dropt: it plained
Faintly, and saturated with sweet pain,
Carried my soul into a void grey realm
Of everlasting melancholy. Maid!
Who mournest for thy lover, hear the lay
And be not comforted, but mourn no more
As you have mourned. Youth! whose thirsting love
Has conjured an ideal from the land
Of Vision, listen with a joyous hope
And mourn not with the bitterness that thou
Hast mourned.
The sward I pressed; she leant on the rude seat
Over me; but I knew not from that hour,
Whether it was mysef I gazed upon,
Or whether I beheld with love intense
And sympathy some higher beings, both
Worthy of each. And she began to sing;
A language which was song was hers,—she sang;
A fragile lute upon her knees she placed,
And, balanced from her neck by cord of silk,
Her fingers gave it speech, yet touched it not,
69
With wings still fluttering to descend,—she played.
Soft as the fine tints of a rainbow bound
About a shower that fell not: first her voice
Came on my sense, but scarce articulate;
Then, waxing louder, it ascended heaven
With all its colours brightening. My heart
Is stilled to sleep as a maid stills a child
That murmurs not, but looks still upward on
The watching smile, till its eyes close at last
Unconsciously. But suddenly the notes
Began to whirl together as a flight
Of swallows, and then louder still became,
Happy beyond all words; fair spirits seemed
Clamorous and clapping of their hands for joy!
Too happy beyond words, I would have wept
Had I been in the actual world, where tears
Are bred by stranger sympathy; but here,
Where sympathy was life, I did not weep.
Lady and child at once! I could weep now!
But then the dark hair of thy song fell down,
The eyelid of thy music dropt: it plained
Faintly, and saturated with sweet pain,
Carried my soul into a void grey realm
Of everlasting melancholy. Maid!
Who mournest for thy lover, hear the lay
And be not comforted, but mourn no more
As you have mourned. Youth! whose thirsting love
70
Of Vision, listen with a joyous hope
And mourn not with the bitterness that thou
Hast mourned.
A louder chord is struck! let grief at once
Be wept out like a thunder-rain, and pride
Go up triumphant with a purple flush,
And warn of trump—the golden crown doth press
The spirit's forehead who hath conquered all!—
—O Lady, thou art wondrous fair and good!
The earth is filled, oh! filled with gracious things.
Slowly again to life descends thy strain,
An odour as of rose-leaves seems to fall
Upon me, and a pearly light: behold!
Art thou not as a goddess over me?
Oh, intermit thy strong-linked power—oh, cease!
And let me drink a silence short and deep,
Then die into the Life that thou dost live.
Be wept out like a thunder-rain, and pride
Go up triumphant with a purple flush,
And warn of trump—the golden crown doth press
The spirit's forehead who hath conquered all!—
—O Lady, thou art wondrous fair and good!
The earth is filled, oh! filled with gracious things.
Slowly again to life descends thy strain,
An odour as of rose-leaves seems to fall
Upon me, and a pearly light: behold!
Art thou not as a goddess over me?
Oh, intermit thy strong-linked power—oh, cease!
And let me drink a silence short and deep,
Then die into the Life that thou dost live.
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