The Lay of Marie and Vignettes in Verse Part 6

What strain, what theme can she inspire, Whose tongue a hopeless mandate brings!

Whose tears are frozen on the strings!

And whose recoiling, languid prayer, Denies itself, in mere despair?

So tamely, faintly, forth it springs; Just felt upon the pliant strings, It flits in sickly languor by, Nerv'd only with a feeble sigh!

"I yield submissive, and again Resume my half-abandon'd strain!

Leading enchain'd sad thoughts along, Remembrance prompting all the song!

But, in the journey, drawing near To what I mourn, and what I fear, The sad realities impress Too deeply; hues of happiness, And gleams of splendors past, decay; The storm despoiling such a day, Gives to the eye no clear, full scope, But scatters wide the wrecks of Hope!

Yet the dire task I may not quit-- 'Twas self impos'd; and I submit, To paint, ah me! the heavy close, The full completion of my woes!

And, as a man that once was free, Whose fate impels him o'er the sea, Now spreads the sail, now plies the oar, Yet looks and leans towards the sh.o.r.e, I feel I may not longer stay, Yet even in launching court delay.

"Before De Stafford should unfold That secret which must soon be told; My terrors urg'd him to comply; For oh! I dar'd not then be nigh; And let the wide, tumultuous sea, Arise between the king and me!

'O! tell him, my belov'd, I pine away, So long an exile from my native home; Tell him I feel my vital powers decay, And seem to tread the confines of the tomb; But tell him not, it is extremest dread Of royal vengeance falling on my head!

"'Say, if that favour'd land but bless my eyes, That land of sun and smiles which gave me birth, Like the renew'd Antaeus I shall rise, On touching once again the parent earth!

Say this, but whisper not that all delight, All health, is only absence from his sight!'

"My Eustace smil'd--' It shall be so; From me and love shall Marie go!

But on the land, and o'er the sea, Attended still by love and me!

The eagle's eye, to brave the light, The swallow's quick, adventurous flight, That faithfulness shall place in view, That service, daring, prompt, and true, Yet insufficient emblems be Of zeal for her who flies from me!

"'Deserter? hope not thus to scape!

Thy guardian still, in every shape, Shall covertly those steps pursue, And keep thy welfare still in view!

More fondly hovering than the dove Shall be my ever watchful love!

Than the harp's tones more highly wrought, Shall linger each tenacious thought!

Apt, active shall my spirit be In care for her who flies from me!'

"And, it had been indeed a crime To leave him, had I known the time, The fearful length of such delay, Protracting but from day to day, Which reach'd at length two tedious years Of dark surmises and of fears!

"How often, on a rocky steep, Would I upon his summons keep An anxious watch: there patient stay Till light's thin lines have died away In the smooth circle of the main, And render'd all expectance vain.

"At the blue, earliest glimpse of morn, Pleas'd with the lapse of time, return; For now, perchance, I might not fail, To see the long expected sail!

Then, as it blankly wore away, Courted the fleeting eye to stay!

As they regardless mov'd along, Wooed the slow moments in a song.

The time approaches! but the Hours With languid steps advance, And loiter o'er the summer flowers, Or in the sun-beams dance!

Oh! haste along! for, lingering, ye Detain my Eustace on the sea!

"Hope, all on tiptoe, does not fail To catch a cheering ray!

And Fancy lifts her airy veil, In wild and frolic play!

Kind are they both, but cruel ye, Detaining Eustace on the sea!

"Sometimes within my cot I staid, And with my precious infant play'd.

'Those eyes,' I cried, 'whose gaze endears, And makes thy mother's flow in tears!

Those tender lips, whose dimpled stray Can even chase suspense away!

Those artless movements, full of charms, Those graceful, rounded, rosy arms, Shall soon another neck entwine, And waken transports fond as mine!

That magic laugh bespeaks thee prest As surely to another breast!

That name a father's voice shall melt, Those looks within his heart be felt!

Drinking thy smiles, thy carols, he Shall weep, for very love, like me!

"Those who in children see their heirs, Have numberless, diverging cares!

Less pure for them affection glows,-- Less of intrinsic joy bestows, Less mellowing, less enlivening, flows!

Oh! such not even could divine A moment's tenderness like mine!

Had he been destin'd to a throne, His little darling self alone, Bereft of station, grandeur, aught But life and virtue, love and thought, Could wake one anxious thrill, or share One hallow'd pause's silent prayer!

"Ye scenes, that flit my memory o'er, Deck'd in the smiles which then ye wore, In the same gay and varied dress, I cannot but admire and bless!

What though some anxious throbs would beat, Some fears within my breast retreat, Yet then I found sincere delight, Whenever beauty met my sight, Whether of nature, chance, or art; Each sight, each sound, impress'd my heart, Gladness undrooping to revive, All warm, and grateful, and alive!

But ere my spirit sinks, so strong Remembrance weighs upon the song, Pa.s.s we to other themes along!

"Say, is there any present here, Whom I can have a cause to fear?-- Whom it were wrongful to perplex, Or faulty policy to vex?

In what affrights the quiet mind My bitter thoughts employment find!

In what torments a common grief Do I alone expect relief!

Our aching sorrows to disclose, Our discontents, our wrongs repeat, To hurl defiance at our foes, And let the soul respire, is sweet!

All that my conscience wills I speak At once, and then my heart may break!

"Too sure King Henry's presage rose;-- De Brehan link'd him with our foes: Yes! ours! the Brehans us'd to be Patterns of faith and loyalty: And many a knightly badge they wore, And many a trace their 'scutcheons bore, Of n.o.ble deeds in days of yore,-- Of royal bounty, and such trust As suits the generous and the just.

"From every record it appears, That Normandy three hundred years Has seen in swift succession run With English kings, from sire to son: But which of all those records saith, That we may change and barter faith: That if our favour is not sure, Or our inheritance secure; If envy of a rival's fame, Or hatred at a foeman's name, Or other reason unconfest, Now feigning sleep in every breast; Upon our minds, our interest weigh, While any fiercer pa.s.sion sway; We may invite a foreign yoke, All truth disown'd, allegiance broke?

Plot, and lay guileful snares to bring, At cost of blood, a stranger king?

And of what blood, if it succeed, Do ye atchieve the glorious deed?

Not of the base! when ye surprize A lurking mischief in the eyes, Dark hatred, cunning prompt to rise, And leap and catch at any prey, Such are your choice! your comrades they!

But if a character should stand Not merely built by human hand; Common observances; the ill Surrounding all; a wayward will; Envy; resentment; falsehood's ease To win its way, evade, and please: If, turning from this worldly lore, As soul-debasing, servile, poor, The growing mind becomes, at length, Healthy and firm in moral strength; Allows no parley and no plea, The sources of its actions free, They spring strait forward, to a goal Which bounds, surmounts, and crowns the whole!

Ye seek not to allay such force, To interrupt so bold a course!

What were the use of minds like these, That will not on occasion seize, Nor stoop to aid the dark design, Nor follow in the devious line?

As soon, in the close twisted brake, Could lions track the smooth, still snake, As they the sinuous path pursue Which policy may point to you!

Nay, menace not with eyes, my lords!

Ye could not fright me with your swords.

"E'en threats to punish, and to kill With tortures difficult to bear, Seem as they would not higher fill The measure of my own despair!

"Such terrors could not veil the hand Now pointing to my husband's bier; Nor could such pangs a groan command The childless mother should not hear!

"All now is chang'd! all contest o'er, Here sea-girt England reigns no more; And if your oaths are bound as fast, And kept more strictly than the last, Ye may, perchance, behold the time Service to her becomes a crime!

"The troubles calling Eustace o'er, Refresh'd my eyes, my heart, once more; And when I gave, with pleasure wild, Into his circling arms our child, I seem'd to hold, all evil past, My happiness secure at last; But found, too soon, in every look, In every pondering word he spoke, Receding thought, mysterious aim: As I did all his pity claim.

A watchfulness almost to fear Did in each cautious glance appear.

And still I sought to fix his eye,

"And read the fate impending there,-- In vain; for it refus'd reply.

"'Canst thou not for a moment bear Even thy Marie's look,' I cried, 'More dear than all the world beside?'

He answer'd,' Do not thou upbraid!

And blame me not, if thus afraid A needful, dear request to make.

One painful only for thy sake, I hesitate, and dread to speak, Seeing that flush upon thy cheek, That shrinking, apprehensive air.-- Oh! born with me some ills to share, But many years of future bliss, Of real, tranquil happiness; I may not think that thou wouldst choose This prospect pettishly to lose For self-indulgence! Understood, Love is the seeking others' good.

If we can ne'er resign delight, Nor lose its object from our sight; And only present dangers brave, That which we dearest hold to save;-- If, when remov'd beyond our eye, All faith in heaven's protection die, Can all our tenderness atone For ills which spring from that alone?'

My fancy rush'd the pause between-- 'What can this fearful prelude mean?

Art thou but seeking some pretence, So lately met! to send me hence?

Believ'st thou terrors will not shake, Nor doubts distract, nor fears awake, In absence? when no power, no charm, Can grant a respite from alarm!

Unreal evils manifold, Often and differently told, Scaring repose, each instant rise, False, but the cause of tears and sighs.

How often I should see thee bleed!

New terrors would the past succeed, With not a smile to intervene Of fair security between!'