Page images
[graphic][merged small][merged small]

FARE THEE WELL. Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny, and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness on the brain ; But never either found another To free the hollow heart from painingThey stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder. A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.”

COLERIDGE's Christabel. FARE thee well! and if for ever,

Still for ever, fare thee well ; Even though unforgiving, never

'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee

Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee

Which thou ne'er canst know again : Would that breast, by thee glanced over,

Every inmost thought could show ! Then thou wouldst at last discover

Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee-

Though it smile upon the blow, Even its praises must offend thee,

Founded on another's woe :
Though my many faults defaced me,

Could no other arm be found,
Than the one which once embraced me,

To inflict a cureless wound?
Vec, oh ver, thrself deceive not:

Loremer sink by slow decay, But br suden wrench, believe not

Hearts can thus be torn away: Skill shine own its life retaineth,

Silimlest mine, though bleeding, beat ; Anithe adving thought which paineth

is-that we is more may meet. There are wonis of deeper sorrow

Than the wail above the dead: Hoxh shall live, but every morrow

Wake us from a widow'd bed.

And when thou wouldst solace gather,

When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say “Father!"

Though his care she must forego ? When her little hand shall press thee,

When her lip to thine is press'd, Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee,

Think of him thy love had bless'd ! Should her lineaments resemble

Those thou never more mayst see,
Then thy heart will softly tremble

With a pulse yet true to me.
All my faults perchance thou knowest,

All my madness none can know ;
All my hopes, where'er thou goest,

Wither, yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ;

Pride, which not a world could bow, Bows to thee-by thee forsaken,

Even my soul forsakes me now: But 'tis done-all words are idle

Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle

Force their way without the will.
Fare thee well! thus disunited,

Torn from every nearer tie,
Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted,

More than this I scarce can die.

A SKETCH. *: Honest—honest lago! If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."

SHAKSPEARE. Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred, Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head: Next-for some gracious service unexpress'd, And from its wages only to be guess'dRaised from the toilette to the table, where Her wondering betters wait behind her chair. With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash'd, She dines from off the plate she lately wash'd. Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie, The genial confidante, and general spy, Who could, ye gods, her next employment

guessAn only infant's earliest governess! She taught the child to read, and taught so well, That she herself, by teaching, leam'd to spell. An adept next in penmanship she grows,

As many a nameless slander deftly shows: Save joy above the ruin thou hast wroughtWhat she had made the pupil

of her art,

The time shall come, nor long remote, when None know-but that high Soul secured thc

thou heart,

Shalt feel far more than thou inflictest now; And panted for the truth it could not hear, Feel for thy vile self-loving self in vain, With longing breast and undeluded ear. And turn thee howling in unpitied pain. Foil'd was perversion by that youthful mind, May the strong curse of crush'd affections light Which Flattery fool'd not, Baseness could not Back on thy bosom with reflected blight ! blind,

And make thee in thy leprosy of mind Deceit infect not, near Contagion soil,

As loathsome to thyself as to mankind ! Indulgence weaken, nor Example spoil, Till all thy self-thoughts curdle into hate, Nor master'd Science tempt her to look down Black-as thy will for others would create: On humbler talents with a pitying frown, Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust, Nor Genius swell, nor Beauty render vain, And thy soul welter in its hideous crust. Nor Envy ruffle to retaliate pain,

Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed, Nor Fortune change, Pride raise, nor Passion The widow'd couch of fire, that thou hast bow,

spread! Nor Virtue teach austerity-till now.

Then, when thou fain wouldst weary Heaven Serenely purest of her sex that live,


prayer, But wanting one sweet weakness—to forgive ; Look on thine earthly victims-and despair ! Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know, Down to the dust!-and, as thou rott'st away, She deems that all could be like her below; Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous Foe to all Vice, yet hardly Virtue's friend,

clay. For Virtue pardons those she would amend. But for the love I bore, and still must bear, But to the theme, now laid aside too long,

To her thy malice from all ties would tearThe baleful Burthen of this honest song:

Thy name—thy human name-to every eye Thou all her former functions are no more,

The climax of all scorn should hang on high, She rules the circle which she served before.

Exalted o'er thy less abhorr'd compeers,
If mothers-none know why-before her quake; And festering in the infamy of years.
If daughters dread her for the mother's sake;
If early habits -those false links, which bind
At times the loftiest to the meanest mind-

STANZAS TO AUGUSTA. Have given her power too deeply to instil When all around grew drear and dark, The angry essence of her deadly will ;

And reason half

withheld her ray,
If like a snake she steal within your walls, And hope but shed a dying spark
Till the black slime betray her as she crawls ; Which more misled my lonely way;
If like a viper to the heart she wind,
And leave the venom there she did not find ;

In that deep midnight of the mind,

And that internal strife of heart,
What marvel that this hag of hatred works
Eternal evil latent as she lurks,

When dreading to be deem'd too kind,
To niake a Pandemonium where she dwells,

The weak despair-the cold depart; And reign the Hecate of domestic hells ?

When fortune changed, and love fled far, Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints

And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast, With all the kind mendacity of hints,

Thou wert the solitary star While mingling truth with falsehood-sneers

Which rose and set not to the last. with smiles

Oh! blest be thine unbroken light, A thread of candour with a web of wiles :

That watch'd me as a seraph's eye, A plain but blunt show of briefly spoken seeming; And stood between me and the night, To hide her bloodless heart's soul-harden'd For ever shining sweetly nigh. scheming;

And when the cloud upon us came, A lip of lies-a

face form'd to conceal ; And, without feeling, mock at all who feel :

Which strove to blacken o'er thy rayWith a vile mask the Gorgon would disown;

Then purer spread its gentle flame,

And dash'd the darkness all away.
A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone.
Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood Still may thy spirit dwell on mine,
Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mud,

And teach it what to brave or brookCased like the centipede in saffron mail,

There's more in one soft word of thine
Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale- Than in the world's defied rebuke,
(For drawn from reptiles only may we trace Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree,
Congenial colours in that soul or face)-

That still unbroke, though gently bent, Look on her features! and behold her mind

Still waves with fond fidelity
As in a mirror of itself defined :
Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged-

Its boughs above a monument.
T'here is no trait which might not be enlarged :

The winds might rend, the skies might pour, Yet true to “Nature's journeymen," who made

But there thou wert-and still woudst be This monster when their mistress left off trade

Devoted in the stormiest hour This female dog-star of her little sky,

To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me. Where all beneath her influence droop or die. But thou and thine shall know no blight, Oh! wretch without a tear- without a

Whatever fate on me may fall; thought,

For Heaven in sunshine will requite

The kind-and thee the most of all.

Then let the ties of baffled love

The first were nothing-had I still the last, Erica thine will never treak:

It were the haven of my happiness ; 19. beat can feei, but wainut muve : But other claims and other ties thou hast,

Thy sun, though soft, wiil never shake. And mine is not the wish to make them less. A these, when all was lust beside,

A strange doom is thy father's son's, and past Werewaard stiil are fix'd in thee :

Recalling, as it lies beyond redress: Acbear; a breas so tried,

Reversed for him our grandsire's fate of yore, Faths su desert-evin to me.

He had no rest at sea, nor I on shore.

If my inheritance of storms hath been

In other elements, and on the rocks
THELH the day of my destiny's over,

Of perils, overlook'd or unforeseen, Ar the star of my fate hath declined,

I have sustain'd my share of worldly shocks, 1r beart refused to discover

The fault was mine ; nor do I seek to screen The facios which so many could find;

My errors with defensive paradox; cathyscal with my grief was acquainted, The careful pilot of my proper woe.

I have been cunning in mine overthrow, liknit: share it with me, And the ventuch my spir.t hath painted Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward: la sever bash found but in thee.

My whole life was a contest, since the day Then when nature around me is smiling, That gave me being, gave me that which marr’d The last see which answers to mine,

The gift-a fate, or will, that walk'd astray; Idina besere it beguiling,

And I at times have found the struggle hard, Peix rerninds me of thine ;

And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay: A hea vinds are at war with the ocean, Put now I fain would for a time survive,

Asobe breasts I believed in with me, If but to see what next can well arrive.
If her besows excite an emotion,
It is that they bear me from thee.

Kingdoms and empires in my little day

I have outlived, and yet I am not old ; Though the rock of my last hope is shiver'd, And when I look on this, the petty spray

And its fragments are sunk in the wave, Of my own years of trouble, which have roll'd Twgh I feci that my soul is deliver'd

Like a wild bay of breakers, melts away: 1. pain-it shall nce be its slave.

Something- I know not what-does still upThere is many a pang to pursue me :

hold They may crush, but they shall not contemn; A spirit of slight patience ;-not in vain, They may torture, but shall not subdue me; Even for its own sake, do we purchase pain.

*Tis of thee that I think-not of them. Though human, thou didst not deceive me,

Perhaps the workings of defiance stir Though woman, thou didst not forsake,

Within me--or perhaps a cold despair, Though tored, thou furborest to grieve me,

Brought on when ills habitually recur,Tiga Sander'd, theu never couldst shake; For even to this may change of soul refer,

Perhaps a kinder clime, or purer air,
Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me;
Though parted, it was not to fly,

And with light armour we may learn to bear!, Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me,

Have taught me a strange quiet, which was not

The chief companion of a calmer lot.
Nor, mute, that the world might belie.
Ver I blame not the world, nor despise it, I feel almost at tir as I have felt
Xor the war of the many with one:

In happy childhood, trees, and flowers, and If my scul was not fitted to prize it,

brooks, Twas folly not sooner to shun:

Which do remember me of where I dwelt And if dearly that error hath cost me,

Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books, And more than I once could foresee, Come as of yore upon me, and can melt I have found that, whatever it lost me,

My heart with recognition of their looks; It could not deprive me of thee.

And even at moments I could think I see From the wreck of the past, which hath perish'd, Some living thing to love, but none like thee. Thus much I at least may recall,

Here are the Alpine landscapes which create It hath taught me that what I most cherish'd, A fund for contemplation -to admire Deserved to be dearest of all:

Is a brief feeling of a trivial date; In the desert a fountain is springing,

But something worthier do such scenes inIn the wide waste there still is a tree,

spire. And a bird in the solitude singing,

Here to be lonely is not desolate, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

For much I view which I could most desire,

And, above all, a lake I can behold

Lovelier, not dearer, than our own of old. My sister! my sweet sister ! if a name Oh that thou wert but with me !-but I grow

Dearer and purer were, it should be thine; The fool of my own wishes, and forget
Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim The solitude which I have vaunted so

No tears, but tenderness to answer mine : Has lost its praise in this but one regret ; Go where I will, to me thou art the same There may be others which I less may show

A loved regret which I would not resign. I am not of the plaintive mood, and yet
There vet are two things in my destiny- I feel an ebb in my philosophy,
A world to roam through, and a home with thee. And the tide rising in my alter'd eye.

[ocr errors][ocr errors]



I did remind thee of our own dear Lake, 1 They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,

By the old Hall which may be mine no more, They take a weight from off our waking toils, Leman's is fair ; but think not I forsake ị They do divide our being; they become

The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore: A portion of ourselves as of our time, Sad havoc Time must with my memory make,

And look like heralds of eternity; Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before; They pass like spirits of the past,--they speak Though, like all things which I have loved, they Like sibyls of the future; they have power-

The tyranny of pleasure and of pain: Resign'd for ever, or divided far.

They make us what we were not-what they The world is all before me; I but ask Of Nature th with which she ill comply

And shake us with the vision that's gone by, It is but in her summer's sun to bask,

The dread of vanish'd shadows--are they so? To mingle with the quiet of her sky,

Is not the past all shadow ?-What are they?

Creations of the mind ?--The mind can make To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy.

Substance, and people planets of its own She was my early friend, and now shall be

With beings brighter than have been, and give

A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh. My sister--till I look again on thee.

I would recall a vision which I dream'd I can reduce all feelings but this one ;

Perchance in sleep; for in itself a thought, And that I would not ;—for at length I see

A slumbering thought, is capable of years, Such scenes as those wherein my life begun.

And curdles a long life into one hour.
The earliest-even the only paths for me-
Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun,

I had been better than I now can be ;
The passions which have torn me would have Standing upon a hill

, a gentle hill,

I saw two beings in the hues of youth slept; I had not suffer'd, and thou hadst not wept.

Green, and of mild declivity, the last

As 'twere the cape of a long ridge of such, With false Ambition what had I to do?

Save that there was no sea to lave its base, Little with Love, and least of all with Fame; But a most living landscape, and the wave And yet they came unsought, and with me grew, Of woods and cornfields, and the abodes of men And made me all which they can make-á Scatter'd at intervals, and wreathing smoke name.

Arising from such rustic roofs ;-the hill Yet this was not the end I did pursue ;

Was crown'd with a peculiar diadem Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.

Of trees, in circular array, so fix'd, But all is over-I am one the more

Not by the sport of nature, but of man: To baffled millions which have gone before. These two, a maiden and a youth, were there And for the future, this world's future may

Gazing--the one on all that was beneath, From me demand but little of my care;

Fair as herself-but the boy gazed on her; I have outlived myself by many a day,

And both were young, and one was beautiful : Having survived so many things that were ;

And both mere young-yet not alike in youth.

As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge, My years have been no slumber, but the prey

The maid was on the eve of womanhood; of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share Of life which might have filld a century,

The boy had fewer summers, but his heart Before its fourth in time had pass'd me by.

Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye

There was but one beloved face on earth, And for the remnant which may be to come

And that was shining on him; he had look'd I am content; and for the past I feel

Upon it till it could not pass away; Not thankless,-for within the crowded sum

He had no breath, no being, but in hers; Of struggles, happiness at times would steal : She was his voice ; he did not speak to her, And for the present, I would not benumb

But trembled on her words ; she was his sight, My feelings further.-Nor shall I conceal

For his eye follow'd hers, and saw with hers, That with all this I still can look around,

Which colour'd all his objects :-he had ceased And worship Nature with a thought profound. To live within himself; she was his life, For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart The ocean to the river of his thoughts,

I know myself secure, as thou in mine ; Which terminated all: upon a tone, We were and are-I am, even as thou art- A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow,

Beings who ne'er each other can resign; And his cheek change tempestuously-his heart it is the same, together or apart,

Unknowing of its cause of agony. From life's commencement to its slow decline But she in these fond feelings had no share : We are entwined : let death come slow or fast, Her sighs were not for him ; to her he was The tie which bound the first endures the last ! Even as a brother--but no more ; 'twas much,

For brotherless she was, save in the name

Her infant friendship had bestow'd on him ; THE DREAM.

Herself the solitary scion left

Of a time-honour'd race.-It was a name Our life is twofold: Sleep hath its own world, which pleased him, and yet pleased him notA boundary between the things misnamed

and why? Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, Time taught him a deep answer-when she And a wide realm of wild reality.

loved And dreams in their development have breath, Another; even now she loved another, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy: And on the summit of that hill she stood

[ocr errors]

Looking afar if yet her lover's steed

What could her grief be?—she had all she loved; Kept pace with her expectancy, and flew. And he who had so loved her was not there

To troub.e with bad hopes, or evil wish, 111. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

Or ill-repress'd affliction, her pure thoughts. There was an ancient mansion, and before

What could her grief be?-she had loved him Jei walls there was a steed caparison'd;

not, Within an antique Oratory stood

Nor given him cause to deem himself beloved ; The Boy of whom I spake :-- he was alone,

Nor could he be a part of that which prey'd And pale, and pacing to and fro: anon

Upon her mind-a spectre of the past. He ate him down, and seized a pen, and traced

VI. Words which I could not guess of; then he A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. Icau'd

The Wanderer was return'd.-I saw him stand His bow'd head on his hands, and shook as Before an altar-with a gentle bride ; 'twere

Her face was fair, but was not that which made With a convulsion-then arose again,

The starlight of his Boyhood. As he stood And with his teeth and quivering hands did tear Even at the altar, o'er his brow there came What he had written, but he shed no tears, The self-same aspect, and the quivering shock And he did calm himself, and fix his brow That in the antique Oratory shook Into a kind of quiet : as he paused,

His bosom in its solitude ; and thenThe Lady of his love re-enter'd there;

As in that hour-a moment o'er his face She was serene and smiling then, and yet The tablet of unutterable thoughts She knew she was by him beloved, --she knew, Was traced, -and then it faded as it came, For quickly comes such knowledge, that his And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke heart

The fitting vows, but heard not his own words, Was darkend with her shadow, and she saw And all things reeld around him; he could see That he was wretched, but she saw not all. Not that which was, nor that which should He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp

have beenHe took her hand ; a moment o'er his face But the old mansion, and the accustom'd hall, A tablet of unutterable thoughts

And the remember'd chambers, and the place, Was traced, and then it faded, as it came; The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade, He dropp'd the hand he held, and with slow All things pertaining to that place and hour, steps

And her who was his destiny,-came back Retired, but not as bidding her adieu,

And thrust themselves between him and the For they did part with mutual smiles; he pass'd light: From out the massy gate of that old Hall, What business had they there at such a time? And mounting on his steed he went his way ; And ne'er repass'd that hoary threshold more.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. IV.

The Lady of his love ;-oh! she was changed A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. As by the sickness of the soul; her mind The Boy was sprung to manhood ; in the wilds Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes, Of fiery climes he made himself a home, They had not their own lustre, but the look And his soul drank their sunbeams: he was girt Which is not of the earth; she was become With strange and dusky aspect; he was not The queen of a fantastic realm ; her thoughts Himself like what he had been; on the sea Were combinations of disjointed things; And on the shore he was a wanderer;

And forms impalpable and unperceived There was a mass of many images

Of others' sight familiar were to hers. Crowded like waves upon me, but he was And this the world calls frenzy: but the wise A part of all; and in the last he lay

Have a far deeper madness, and the glance Reposing from the noontide sultriness,

Of melancholy is a fearful gift ;
Couch'd among fallen columns, in the shade What is it but the telescope of truth?
Of ruin'd walls that had survived the names Which strips the distance of its fantasies,
Of those who rear'd them; by his sleeping side And brings life near in utter nakedness,
Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds Making the cold reality too real!
Were fasten'd near a fountain ; and a man,

Clad in a flowing garb, did watch the while,

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. While many of his tribe slumber'd around:

The Wanderer was alone as heretofore, And they were canopied by the blue sky, The beings which surrounded him were gone, So cloudless clear, and purely beautiful, Or were at war with him ; he was a mark That God alone was to be seen in heaven.

For blight and desolation, compass'd round

With Hatred and Contention ; Pain was mix'd A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. In all which was served up to him, until, The lady of his love was wed with One Who did not love her better :-in her home,

Like to the Pontic monarch of old days,

He fed on poisons, and they had no power, A thousand leagues from his-her native home, But were a kind of nutriment; he lived She dwelt, begirt with growing Infancy, Daughters and sons of Beauty,—but behold !

Through that which had been death to many l'pon her face there was the tint of grief,

men, The settled shadow of an inward strife,

And made him friends of mountains : with the And an unquier dropping of the eye,

stars As if its lid were charged with unshed tears

And the quick Spirit of the Universe
He held his dialogues ; and they did teach


[ocr errors]


« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »