Life Without and Life Within Part 37

(_They all go out._)

Alone and still! This day the cup of woe Is full; and while I drain its bitter dregs, Calm, queenlike, stern, I would review the past.

Well it becomes the favorite of fortune, The royal arbitress of others' weal, The world's desire, and England's deity, Self-poised, self-governed, clear and firm to gaze Where others close their aching eyes, to _dream_.

Who feels imperial courage glow within Fears not the mines which lie beneath his throne; Bold he ascends, though knowing well his peril-- Majestical and fearless holds the sceptre.

The golden circlet of enormous weight He wears with brow serene and smiling air, As though a myrtle chaplet graced his temples.

And thus didst _thou_. The far removed thy power Attracted and subjected to thy will, The hates and fears which oft beset thy way Were seen, were met, and conquered by thy courage.

Thy tyrant father's wrath, thy mother's hopeless fate, Thy sister's harshness,--all were cast behind; And to a soul like thine, bonds and harsh usage Taught fort.i.tude, prudence, and self-command, To act, or to endure. Fate did the rest.

One brilliant day thou heard'st, "Long live the Queen!"

A queen thou wert; and in the heart's despite, Despite the foes without, within, who ceaseless Have threatened war and death,--a queen thou _art_, And wilt be, while a spark of life remains.

But this last deadly blow--I feel it here!

Yet the low, prying world shall ne'er perceive it.

"Actress" they call me,--'tis a queen's vocation!

The people stare and whisper--what would they But acting, to amuse them? Is deceit Unknown, except in regal palaces?

The child at play already is an actor.

Still to thyself, let weal or woe betide, Elizabeth! be true and steadfast ever!

Maintain thy fixed reserve: 'tis just; what heart Can sympathize with a queen's agony?

The false, false world,--it wooes me for my treasures, My favors, and the place my smile confers; And if for love I offer mutual love, My minion, not content, must have the crown.

'Twas thus with Ess.e.x; yet to thee, O heart!

I dare to say it, thy all died with him!

Man must experience--be he who he may-- Of bliss a last, irrevocable day.

Each owns this true, but cannot bear to live And feel the last has come, the last has gone; That never eye again in earnest tenderness Shall turn to him,--no heart shall thickly beat When his footfall is heard,--no speaking blush Tell the soul's wild delight at meeting,--never Rapture in presence, hope in absence more, Be his,--no sun of love illume his landscape!

Yet thus it is with me. Throughout this heart Deep night, without a star! What all the host To me,--my Ess.e.x fallen from the heavens!

To me he was the centre of the world, The ornament of time. Wood, lawn, or hall, The busy mart, the verdant solitude, To me were but the fame of one bright image; That face is dust,--those l.u.s.trous eyes are closed, And the frame mocks me with its empty centre.

How n.o.bly free, how gallantly he bore him, The charms of youth combined with manhood's vigor!

How sage his counsel, and how warm his valor,-- The glowing fire and the aspiring flame!

Even in his presumption he was kingly!

But ah! does memory cheat me? What was all, Since Truth was wanting, and the man I loved Could court his death to vent his anger on me, And I must punish him, or live degraded.

I chose the first; but in his death I died.

Land, sea, church, people, throne,--all, all are nought, I live a living death, and call it royalty.

Yet, wretched ruler o'er these empty gauds, A part remains to play, and I will play it.

A purple mantle hides my empty heart, The kingly crown adorns my aching brow, And pride conceals my anguish from the world.

But in the still and ghostly midnight hour, From each intruding eye and ear set free, I still may shed the bitter, hopeless tear, Nor fear the babbling of the earless walls.

I to myself may say, "I die! I die!

Elizabeth, unfriended and alone, So die as thou hast lived,--alone, but queenlike!"

HYMN WRITTEN FOR A SUNDAY SCHOOL.

"And his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us?

Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing.

"And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business? "--_Luke_ ii. 48, 49

I.

Thus early was Christ's course begun, Thus radiant dawned celestial day; And those who such a race would run, As early should be on the way.

II.

His Father's business was his care, Yet in man's favor still he grew: O, might we learn, by thought and prayer, Like him a work of love to do!

III.

Wisdom and virtue still he sought, Nor ignorant nor vile despised: True was each action, pure each thought, And each pure hope he realized.

IV.

The empires of this world, in vain, Offered their sceptres to his hand; Fearless he trod the stormy main, Fearless 'mid throngs of foes could stand.

V.

Yet with his courage and his power Combined such sweetness and such love, He could revere the simplest flower, The vilest sinners firm reprove.

VI.

For all mankind he came, nor yet An infant's visit would deny; Nor friend nor mother did forget In his last hour of agony.

VII.

O, children, ask him to impart That spirit clear and temper mild, Which made the mother in her heart Keep all the sayings of her child.

VIII.

Bless him who said, of such as you His Father's kingdom is, and still, His yoke to bear, his work to do, Study his life to learn his will.

DESERTION.

TRANSLATION OF ONE OF GARCILASO'S ECLOGUES.