The Lay of Marie and Vignettes in Verse Part 7

"'No, Marie, no! my wife shall share With me the trials soldiers bear: No longer and no more we part.--- Thy presence needful to my heart I now more evidently know; Making the careful moments flow To happy music! on my brow The iron casque shall lighter prove,-- The corslet softer on my breast, The s.h.i.+eld upon my arm shall rest More easy, when the hand of love There places them. Our succours soon Arrive; and then, whatever boon I shall think fitting to demand, My gracious monarch's bounteous hand Awards as guerdon for my charge, And bids my wishes roam at large.

Then if we from these rebels tear The traitor honours which they wear, Thy father's tides and domain Shall flourish in his line again!

And Marie's child, in time to come, Shall call his grandsire's castle, home!

Alas! poor babe! the scenes of war For him too harsh and frightful are!

Would that he might in safety rest Upon my gentle mother's breast!

That in the vessel now at bay, In Hugh de Lacy's care he lay!

My heart and reason would be free, If he were safe beyond the sea.

"'Nay, let me not my love displease!

But is it fit, that walls like these The blooming cherub should inclose!

And when our close approaching foes Are skirmis.h.i.+ng the country o'er, We must adventure forth no more.'

"At length I gave a half consent, Resign'd, submissive, not content: For, only in intensest prayer, For, only kneeling did I dare, Sustaining thus my sinking heart, Suffer my infant to depart.

Oh! yet I see his sparkling tears; His parting cries are in my ears, As, strongly bending back the head, The little hands imploring spread, Him from my blinding sight they bore, Down from the fort along the sh.o.r.e.

"From the watch-tower I saw them sail, And pour'd forth prayers--of no avail!

Yet, when a tempest howl'd around, Hurling huge branches on the ground From stately trees; when torrents swept The fields of air, I tranquil kept.--

"Hope near a fading blossom Will often take her stand; Revive it on her bosom, Or screen it with her wand: But to the leaves no sunbeams press, Her fair, thick locks pervading; Through that bright wand no dew-drops bless, Still cherish'd, and still fading:-- Beneath her eye's bright beam it pines, Fed by her angel smile, declines.

"Eustace, meanwhile, with feverish care, Seem'd worse the dire suspense to bear.

Bewilder'd, starting at the name Of messenger, when any came, With body shrinking back, he sought, While his eye seem'd on fire with thought, Defying, yet subdued by fear, To ask that truth he dar'd not hear.

"He went his rounds.--The duty done, His mind still tending toward his son; With spirit and with heart deprest, A judgment unsustain'd by rest;-- Fainting in effort, and at strife With feelings woven into life; And with the chains of being twin'd By links so strong, though undefin'd, They curb or enervate the brain, Weigh down by languor, rack by pain, And spread a thousand subtil ties Across the tongue, and through the eyes; Till the whole frame is fancy vext, And all the powers of mind perplext.

"What wonder, then, it sunk and fail'd!

What wonder that your plans prevail'd!

In vain by stratagem you toil'd;-- His skill and prudence all had foil'd; For one day's vigilance surpast Seeming perfection in the last.

Each hour more active, more intent, Unarm'd and una.s.sail'd he went; While every weapon glanc'd aside, His armour every lance defied.

The blow that could that soul subdue At length was struck--but not by you!

It fell upon a mortal part-- A poison'd arrow smote his heart; The winds impelling, when they bore Wrecks of the vessel to our sh.o.r.e!

"Oh! ever dear! and ever kind!

What madness could possess thy mind, From me, in our distress, to fly?

True, much delight had left my eye; And, in the circle of my bliss, One holy, rapturous joy to miss Was mine!--Yet I had more than this, Before my wounds were clos'd, to bear!

See thee, an image of despair, Just rush upon my woe, then shun Her who alike deplor'd a son; And, ere alarm had taken breath, Be told, my husband, of thy death!

And feel upon this blighted sphere No tie remain to bind me here!

Still in my life's young summer see A far and weary path to thee!

Along whose wild and desert way No sportive tribes of fancy play; No smiles that to the lips arise, No joys to sparkle in the eyes;-- No thrills of tenderness to feel, No spring of hope, no touch of zeal.

All sources of heart-feeling stopt, All impulse, all sustainment dropt.

With aching memory, sinking mind, Through this drear wilderness to find The path to death;--and pining, roam Myriads of steps to reach the tomb!

Of which to catch a distant view, The softest line, the faintest hue, As symbol when I should be free, Were happiness too great for me!"

Here clos'd at once, abrupt, the lay!

The Minstrel's fingers ceas'd to play!

And, all her soul to anguish given, Doubted the pitying care of Heaven.

But evil, in its worst extreme, In its most dire, impending hour, Shall vanish, like a hideous dream, And leave no traces of its power!

The vessel plunging on a rock, Wreck threatening in its fellest shape, No moment's respite from the shock, No human means or power to 'scape, Some higher-swelling surge shall free, And lift and launch into the sea!

So, Marie, yet shall aid divine Restore that failing heart of thine!

Though to its centre wounded, griev'd, Though deeply, utterly bereav'd.

There genial warmth shall yet reside, There swiftly flow the healthful tide; And every languid, closing vein, Drink healing and delight again!

At present all around her fades, Her listless ear no sound pervades.

Her senses, wearied and distraught, Perceive not how the stream of thought, Rising from her distressful song, In hurrying tide has swept along, With startling and resistless swell, The panic-stricken Isabel!

Who--falling at her father's feet, Like the most lowly suppliant, kneels; And, with imploring voice, unmeet For one so fondly lov'd, appeals.--

"Those looks have been to me a law, And solely by indulgence bought, With zeal intense, with deepest awe, A self-devoted slave, I caught My highest transport from thy smile; And studied hourly to beguile The lightest cloud of grief or care I saw those gracious features wear!

If aught induced me to divine A hope was opposite to thine, My fancy paus'd, however gay; My silent wishes sunk away!

Displeasure I have never seen, But sickness has subdued thy mien; When, lingering near, I still have tried To cheer thee, and thou didst approve; But something still each act belied, My manner chill'd, restrain'd my love!

E'en at the time my spirit died With aching tenderness, my eye, Encountering thine, was cold and dry!

To maim intention, fondness,--came The sudden impotence of shame.

Thy happiness was thriftless wealth, For I could only h.o.a.rd by stealth!

Affection's brightly-glowing ray Shone with such strong, o'erpowering sway, That service fainted by the way!

"But now an impulse, like despair, Makes me these inner foldings tear!

With desperate effort bids me wrest The yearning secret from my breast!

Far be the thought that any blame Can fix on thy beloved name!

The hapless Minstrel may not feign; But thou, I know, canst all explain-- Yet let me from this place depart, To nurse my fainting, sicken'd heart!

Yet let me in a cloister dwell, The veiled inmate of a cell; To raise this cowering soul by prayer!-- Reproach can never enter there!

"Turn quickly hence that look severe!

And, oh! in mercy, not a tear!

The most profuse of parents, thou Didst every wish fulfil--allow; Till that which us'd to please--invite, Had ceas'd to dazzle and delight; And all thy gifts almost despis'd, The love that gave alone I priz'd.

"My yielding spirit bows the knee; My will profoundly bends to thee: But paltry vanities resign'd, Wealth, gauds, and honours left behind, I only wanted, thought to quit This strange, wild world, and make me fit For one of better promise--given To such as think not this their heaven!

Nay, almost in my breast arose A hope I scarcely dare disclose; A hope that life, from tumult free,-- A life so harmless and so pure, A calm so shelter'd, so secure, At length might have a charm for thee!

That supplications, patient, strong, Might not remain unanswer'd long!

And all temptations from thee cast, The altar prove thy home at last!"

The artless Isabel prevails-- That hard, unbending spirit fails!

Not many words her lips had past, Ere round her his fond arms were cast; But, while his vengeful conscience prais'd, He chid; and, frowning, would have rais'd Till her resistance and her tears, The vehemence of youthful grief, Her paleness, his paternal fears, Compell'd him to afford relief; And forc'd the agonizing cry-- That he could never her deny!

Of what ambition sought, beguil'd, His crimes thus fruitless! and his child, The beautiful, the rich and young-- Now, in his most triumphant hours!

The darling he had nurs'd in flowers!

His pride, the prais'd of every tongue!

So gentle as she was!--the rein Of influence holding, to restrain His harsher power, without pretence, In graceful, gay beneficence-- An angel deem'd, her only care To comfort and to please!

Whose smiling, whose unconscious air, Bespoke a heart at ease-- By her--on whom sweet hopes were built, His cup when fill'd thus rashly spilt!

The treasures he had heap'd in vain, Thrown thankless on his hands again!

While--father to this being blest, He saw a dagger pierce her breast, In knowledge of his former guilt!

And of his projects thus bereft, What had the wretched parent left?

Oh! from the wreck of all, he bore A richer, n.o.bler freight ash.o.r.e!

And filial love could well dispense On earth a dearer recompense, If he its real worth had known, Than full success had made his own.

So ardent and so kind of late, Is Marie careless of their fate, That, wrapt in this demeanour cold, Her spirits some enchantments hold?

That thus her countenance is clos'd, Where high and lovely thoughts repos'd!

Quench'd the pure light that us'd to fly To the smooth cheek and lucid eye!

And fled the harmonizing cloud Which could that light benignly shroud, Soothing its radiance to our view, And melting each opposing hue, Till deepening tints and blendings meet Made contrast' self serene and sweet.