The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning Volume IV Part 13

Ay, it is He, Who rides at the King's right hand!

Leave room to his horse and draw to the side, Nor press too near in the ecstasy Of a newly delivered impa.s.sioned land: He is moved, you see, He who has done it all.

They call it a cold stern face; But this is Italy Who rises up to her place!-- For this he fought in his youth, Of this he dreamed in the past; The lines of the resolute mouth Tremble a little at last.

Cry, he has done it all!

"Emperor Evermore."

XIII.

It is not strange that he did it, Though the deed may seem to strain To the wonderful, unpermitted, For such as lead and reign.

But he is strange, this man: The people's instinct found him (A wind in the dark that ran Through a c.h.i.n.k where was no door), And elected him and crowned him Emperor Evermore.

XIV.

Autocrat? let them scoff, Who fail to comprehend That a ruler incarnate of The people must transcend All common king-born kings; These subterranean springs A sudden outlet winning Have special virtues to spend.

The people's blood runs through him, Dilates from head to foot, Creates him absolute, And from this great beginning Evokes a greater end To justify and renew him-- Emperor Evermore.

XV.

What! did any maintain That G.o.d or the people (think!) Could make a marvel in vain?-- Out of the water-jar there, Draw wine that none could drink?

Is this a man like the rest, This miracle, made unaware By a rapture of popular air, And caught to the place that was best?

You think he could barter and cheat As vulgar diplomates use, With the people's heart in his breast?

Prate a lie into shape Lest truth should c.u.mber the road; Play at the fast and loose Till the world is strangled with tape; Maim the soul's complete To fit the hole of a toad; And filch the dogman's meat To feed the offspring of G.o.d?

XVI.

Nay, but he, this wonder, He cannot palter nor prate, Though many around him and under, With intellects trained to the curve, Distrust him in spirit and nerve Because his meaning is straight.

Measure him ere he depart With those who have governed and led; Larger so much by the heart, Larger so much by the head.

Emperor Evermore.

XVII.

He holds that, consenting or dissident, Nations must move with the time; a.s.sumes that crime with a precedent Doubles the guilt of the crime; --Denies that a slaver's bond, Or a treaty signed by knaves (_Quorum magna pars_, and beyond Was one of an honest name), Gives an inexpugnable claim To abolish men into slaves.

Emperor Evermore.

XVIII.

He will not swagger nor boast Of his country's meeds, in a tone Missuiting a great man most If such should speak of his own; Nor will he act, on her side, From motives baser, indeed, Than a man of a n.o.ble pride Can avow for himself at need; Never, for lucre or laurels, Or custom, though such should be rife, Adapting the smaller morals To measure the larger life.

He, though the merchants persuade, And the soldiers are eager for strife, Finds not his country in quarrels Only to find her in trade,-- While still he accords her such honour As never to flinch for her sake Where men put service upon her, Found heavy to undertake And scarcely like to be paid: Believing a nation may act Unselfishly--s.h.i.+ver a lance (As the least of her sons may, in fact) And not for a cause of finance.

Emperor Evermore.

XIX.

Great is he Who uses his greatness for all.

His name shall stand perpetually As a name to applaud and cherish, Not only within the civic wall For the loyal, but also without For the generous and free.

Just is he, Who is just for the popular due As well as the private debt.

The praise of nations ready to perish Fall on him,--crown him in view Of tyrants caught in the net, And statesmen dizzy with fear and doubt!

And though, because they are many, And he is merely one, And nations selfish and cruel Heap up the inquisitor's fuel To kill the body of high intents, And burn great deeds from their place, Till this, the greatest of any, May seem imperfectly done; Courage, whoever circ.u.mvents!

Courage, courage, whoever is base!

The soul of a high intent, be it known, Can die no more than any soul Which G.o.d keeps by Him under the throne; And this, at whatever interim, Shall live, and be consummated Into the being of deeds made whole.

Courage, courage! happy is he, Of whom (himself among the dead And silent) this word shall be said: --That he might have had the world with him, But chose to side with suffering men, And had the world against him when He came to deliver Italy.

Emperor Evermore.

THE DANCE.

I.

You remember down at Florence our Cascine, Where the people on the feast-days walk and drive, And, through the trees, long-drawn in many a green way, O'er-roofing hum and murmur like a hive, The river and the mountains look alive?

II.

You remember the piazzone there, the stand-place Of carriages a-brim with Florence Beauties, Who lean and melt to music as the band plays, Or smile and chat with someone who a-foot is, Or on horseback, in observance of male duties?

III.

'T is so pretty, in the afternoons of summer, So many gracious faces brought together!

Call it rout, or call it concert, they have come here, In the floating of the fan and of the feather, To reciprocate with beauty the fine weather.

IV.

While the flower-girls offer nosegays (because _they_ too Go with other sweets) at every carriage-door; Here, by shake of a white finger, signed away to Some next buyer, who sits buying score on score, Piling roses upon roses evermore.

V.

And last season, when the French camp had its station In the meadow-ground, things quickened and grew gayer Through the mingling of the liberating nation With this people; groups of Frenchmen everywhere, Strolling, gazing, judging lightly--"who was fair."

VI.

Then the n.o.blest lady present took upon her To speak n.o.bly from her carriage for the rest: "Pray these officers from France to do us honour By dancing with us straightway." The request Was gravely apprehended as addressed.

VII.

And the men of France, bareheaded, bowing lowly, Led out each a proud signora to the s.p.a.ce Which the startled crowd had rounded for them--slowly, Just a touch of still emotion in his face, Not presuming, through the symbol, on the grace.

VIII.

There was silence in the people: some lips trembled, But none jested. Broke the music, at a glance: And the daughters of our princes, thus a.s.sembled, Stepped the measure with the gallant sons of France, Hus.h.!.+ it might have been a Ma.s.s, and not a dance.

IX.

And they danced there till the blue that overskied us Swooned with pa.s.sion, though the footing seemed sedate; And the mountains, heaving mighty hearts beside us, Sighed a rapture in a shadow, to dilate, And touch the holy stone where Dante sate.

X.

Then the sons of France, bareheaded, lowly bowing, Led the ladies back where kinsmen of the south Stood, received them; till, with burst of overflowing Feeling--husbands, brothers, Florence's male youth, Turned, and kissed the martial strangers mouth to mouth.