wise thou And when my marriage morn may fall, O, three times less unworthy! like- Or love that never found his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and Or all the same as if he had not been? 20 Art more thro' Love, and greater than Ill-fated that I am, what lot is mine Whose foresight preaches peace, my heart so slow Shall Error in the round To feel it! For how hard it seem'd of time Still father Truth? O, shall the braggart shout For some blind glimpse of freedom work itself Thro' madness, hated by the wise, to law, System, and empire? Sin itself be found The cloudy porch oft opening on the to me, When eyes, love-languid thro' half tears, would dwell One earnest, earnest moment upon mine, Then not to dare to see! when thy low voice, Faltering, would break its syllables, to keep -- My own full-tuned, hold passion in a leash, 40 And not leap forth and fall about thy neck, And on thy bosom - deep desired relief! Rain out the heavy mist of tears, the weigh'd Upon my brain, my senses, and my soul! For Love himself took part against himself To warn us off, and Duty loved of O, this world's curse - beloved but Like Death betwixt thy dear embrace and mine, And crying, 'Who is this? behold thy bride,' She push'd me from thee. Like bitter accusation even to death, Caught up the whole of love and utter'd it, If the sense is hard And bade adieu for ever. To alien ears, I did not speak to these No, not to thee, but to thyself in me. Hard is my doom and thine; thou knowest it all. Live-yet live 80 Shall sharpest pathos blight us, knowing all needs for life is possible to will? 51 Life O, then, like those who clench their Between the lakes, and clamber'd half nerves to rush Upon their dissolution, we two rose, There closing like an individual life In one blind cry of passion and of pain, way up The counter side; and that same song of his He told me, for I banter'd him and swore To which 'They call me what they will,' he said: 'But I was born too late; the fair new forms, That float about the threshold of an age, Like truths of Science waiting to be caught Catch me who can, and make the catcher crown'd Are taken by the forelock. Let it be. But if you care indeed to listen, hear 20 These measured words, my work of yester-morn : 'We sleep and wake and sleep, but all things move; The sun flies forward to his brother 'Ah, folly !'in mimic cadence answer'd James Ah, folly! for it lies so far away, Not in our time, nor in our children's time, "T is like the second world to us that live; 'T were all as one to fix our hopes on heaven As on this vision of the golden year.' With that he struck his staff against the rocks And broke it, James, 60 -you know him, old, but full Of force and choler, and firm upon his feet, And like an oaken stock in winter 'What stuff is this! Old writers push'd the happy season back, This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle, Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labor, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail 40 There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail; Death closes all; but something erc the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks; The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths 60 |
