« ElőzőTovább »
She replies, in accents fainter,
* There is none I love like thee.' He is but a landscape-painter,
And a village maiden she. He to lips, that fondly falter,
Presses his without reproof : Leads her to the village altar,
And they leave her father's roof.
Little can I give my wife.
And I love thee more than life.'
See the lordly castles stand :
Made a murmur in the land.
Says to her that loves him well,
Where the wealthy nobles dwell.' So she goes by him attended,
Hears him lovingly converse, Sees whatever fair and splendid
Lay betwixt his home and hers; Parks with oak and chestnut shady,
Parks and order'd gardens great,
Built for pleasure and for state.
Evermore she seems to gaze
days. O but she will love him truly !
He shall have a cheerful home; She will order all things duly,
When beneath his roof they come. Thus her heart rejoices greatly,
Till a gateway she discerns With armorial bearings stately,
And beneath the gate she turns ; Sees a mansion more majestic
Than all those she saw before :
Many a gallant gay domestic
Bows before him at the door. And they speak in gentle murmur,
When they answer to his call,
Leading on from hall to hall.
Nor the meaning can divine,
All of this is mine and thine.' Ilere he lives in state and bounty,
Lord of Burleigh, fair and free,
Is so great a lord as he.
Her sweet face from brow to chin :
And her spirit changed within. Then her countenance all over
Pale again as death did prove : But he clasp'd her like a lover,
And he cheer'd her soul with love. So she strove against her weakness,
Tho' at times her spirit sank : Shaped her heart with woman's meek
ness To all duties of her rank : And a gentle consort made he,
And her gentle mind was such That she grew a noble lady,
And the people loved her much. But a trouble weigh'd upon her,
And perplex'd her, night and morn, With the burthen of an honour
Unto which she was not born. Faint she grew, and ever fainter,
And she murmur'd, “Oh, that he Were once more that landscape-painter,
Which did win my heart from me!' So she droop'd and droop'd before him,
Fading slowly from his side:
Then before her time she died.
Weeping, weeping late and early,
Walking up and pacing down, Deeply mourn’d the Lord of Burleigh,
Burleigh-house by Stamford-town. And he came to look upon her,
And he look'd at her and said, * Bring the dress and put it on her,
That she wore when she was wed.' Then her people, softly treading,
Bore to earth her body, drest In the dress that she was wed in,
That her spirit might have rest.
iv. New stars all night above the brim
Of waters lighten’d into view ; They climb'd as quickly, for the rim
Changed every moment as we flew. Far ran the naked moon across
The houseless ocean's heaving field, Or flying shone, the silver boss
Of her own halo's dusky shield ;
We left behind the painted buoy
That tosses at the harbour-mouth ; And madly danced our hearts with joy,
As fast we fleeted to the South : How fresh was every sight and sound
On open main or winding shore ! We knew the merry world was round,
And we might sail for evermore.
The peaky islet shifted shapes,
High towns on hills were dimly seen, We past long lines of Northern capes
And dewy Northern meadows green. We came to warmer waves, and deep
Across the boundless east we drove, Where those long swells of breaker sweep The nutmeg rocks and isles of clove.
vi. By peaks that flamed, or, all in shade, Gloom'd the low coast and quivering
brine With ashy rains, that spreading made
Fantastic plume or sable pine ; By sands and steaming flats, and floods
Of mighty mouth, we scudded fast,
How swiftly stream'd ye by the bark ! At times the whole sea burn'd, at times
With wakes of fire we tore the dark ; At times a carven craft would shoot
From havens hid in fairy bowers, With naked limbs and flowers and fruit,
But we nor paused for fruit nor flowers.
Warm broke the breeze against the brow,
Dry sang the tackle, sang the sail : The Lady's-head upon the prow Caught the shrill salt, and sheer'd the
gale. The broad seas swell’d to meet the keel,
And swept behind ; so quick the run, We felt the good ship shake and reel, We seem'd to sail into the Sun !
111. How oft we saw the Sun retire,
And burn the threshold of the night, Fall from his Ocean-lane of fire,
And sleep beneath his pillar'd light ! How oft the purple-skirted robe
Of twilight slowly downward drawn, As thro' the slumber of the globe
Again we dash'd into the dawn !
For one fair Vision ever filed
Down the waste waters day and night, And still we follow'd where she led,
In hope to gain upon her flight.
LIKE souls that balance joy and pain,
In crystal vapour everywhere
From draughts of balmy air.
And now we lost her, now she gleam'd
Like Fancy made of golden air, Now nearer to the prow she seem'd
Like Virtue firm, like Knowledge fair, Now high on waves that idly burst Like Heavenly Hope she crown'd the
sea, And now, the bloodless point reversed, She bore the blade of Liberty.
We pleased not-he was seldom pleased: He saw not far : his eyes were dim :
But ours he swore were all diseased. *A ship of fools,' he shriek'd in spite,
* A ship of fools,' he sneer'd and wept. And overboard one stormy night
He cast his body, and on we swept.
Sometimes the linnet piped his song :
By grassy capes with fuller sound
Above the teeming ground.
Then, in the boyhood of the year,
She seem'd a part of joyous Spring :
Closed in a golden ring.
And never sail of ours was furld,
Nor anchor dropt at eve or morn; We lov'd the glories of the world,
But laws of nature were our scorn. For blasts would rise and rave and cease, But whence were those that drove the
For still we follow'd where she led :
And half the crew are sick or dead, But, blind or lame or sick or sound,
We follow that which flies before : We know the merry world is round,
And we may sail for evermore.
Now on some twisted ivy.net,
And fleeter now she skimm'd the plains
With jingling bridle-reins.
A FAREWELL-THE BEGGAR MAID-THE EAGLE.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,
In all that land had never been : Cophetua sware a royal oath :
*This beggar maid shall be my queen!'
As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid : She look'd so lovely, as she sway'd
The rein with dainty finger-tips, A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips.
FRAGMENT. He clasps the crag with crooked hands ; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver : No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever. Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river :
For ever and for ever.
And here thine aspen shiver ;
For ever and for ever. A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver ; But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.
Move eastward, happy earth, and leave
Yon orange sunset waning slow : From fringes of the faded eve,
O, happy planet, eastward go ; Till over thy dark shoulder glow
Thy silver sister-world, and rise
To glass herself in dewy eyes That watch me from the glen below. Ah, bear me with thee, smoothly borne,
Dip forward under starry light, And move me to my marriage-morn,
And round again to happy night.
THE BEGGAR MAID. Her arms across her breast she laid ;
She was more fair than words can say : Bare-footed came the beggar maid
Before the king Cophetua. In rcbe and crown the king stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way; It is no wonder,' said the lords,
‘She is more beautiful than day.' As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen : One praised her ancles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
Come not, when I am dead,
To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst
not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry;
But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime
I care no longer, being all unblest : Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of
Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where
I lie :
Go by, go by.