"Yet in the light of day to win and wed,
To boast a bride, yet not to own a shed;
To doom the famine, yet proclaim the bliss,
And seal the ruin in the nuptial kiss;—
Love shunn'd such madness for the loved one's sake;
What course could Prudence sanction Love to take?
Lenient I knew my kinsman to a vice;
But, oh, to folly Cato less precise!
And all my future, in my kinsman bound,
Shadow'd his humours—smiled in him or frown'd;
But uncles still, however high in state, }
Are mortal men—and Youth has hope to wait, }
And Love a conqueror's confidence in Fate.— }
A secret Hymen reconciled in one
Caution and bliss—if Mary could be won?
Hard task!—I said it was my lot to win
Sway o'er a life for grief;—this was not sin.
To her I told my name, rank, doubts, and fears,
And urged the prayer too long denied with tears—
'Reject'st thou still,' I cried, 'well, then to me
The pride to offer all life holds to thee;
I go to tell my love, proclaim my choice—
Clasp want, mar fate, meet ruin, and rejoice,
So that, at least, when next we meet, thy sigh
Shall own this truth—"He better loved than I."'
"With that, her hand upon my own she laid,
Look'd in my eyes—the sacrifice was made;
Alas, she had no mother!—Nature moved
That heart to this—she trusted, for she loved!
"I had a friend of lowlier birth than mine,
The sunnier spot allured the trailing vine.
My rising fortunes had the southern air,
And fruit might bless the plant that clamber'd there.
My smooth Clanalbin!—shrewd, if smooth, was he,
His soul was prudent, though his life was free;
Scapin to serve, and Machiavel to plot,
Red-hair'd, thin-lipp'd, sly, supple,—and a Scot!
To him the double project I confide,
To cloak the rite, and yet to clasp the bride;
Long he resisted—solemnly he warn'd,
And urged the perils love had seen and scorn'd.
At length subdued, he groan'd a slow consent,
And pledged a genius practised to invent.
A priest was found—a license was procured,
Due witness hired, and secrecy assured;
All this his task:—'tis o'er;—and Mary's life
Bound up in one who dares not call her wife!
"Alas—alas, why on the fatal brink
Of the abyss—doth not the instinct shrink?
The meaner tribe the coming storm foresees—
In the still calm the bird divines the breeze—
The ox that grazes shuns the poison-weed—
The unseen tiger frights afar the steed—
To man alone no kind foreboding shows
The latent horror or the ambush'd foes;
O'er each blind moment hangs the funeral pall,
Heaven shines, earth smiles—and night descends on all!
"But I!—fond reader of imagined skies,
Foretold my future in those stars—her eyes!
O heavenly Moon, circling with magic hues
And mystic beauty all thy beams suffuse,
Is not in love thine own fair secret seen?
Love smooths the rugged—love exalts the mean:
Love in each ray inspires the hush'd alarm,
Love silvers every shadow into charm.
VI.
"O lonely beech, beneath whose bowering shade
The tryst, encircling Paradise, was made,
How the heart heard afar the hurrying feet,
And swell'd to breathless words—'At last we meet!'
But Autumn fades—dark Winter comes, and then
Fate from Elysium calls me back to men;
We part!—not equal is the anguish;—she
Parts with all earth in that farewell to me;
For not the grate more bars the veilèd nun
From the fair world with which her soul has done,
Than love the heart, that vows, without recall,
To one,—fame, honour, memory, hope, and all!
But I!—behold me in the dazzling strife,
The gaud, the pomp, the joyous roar of life,—
Man, with man's heart insatiate, ever stirr'd
By the crowd's breath to conflict with the herd;
Which never long one thought alone can sway,—
The dream fades from us when we leap to-day.
New scenes surround me, new ambitions seize,—
All life one fever,—who defy disease?—
Each touch contagion:—living with the rest,
The world's large pulse keeps time in every breast.
Yet still for her—for her alone, methought,
Its web of schemes the vulgar labour wrought:
To ransom fate—to soar, from serfdom, free,
Snap the strong chains of high-born penury;
And, grown as bold to earth as to the skies,
Proclaim the bliss of happy human ties:—
So, ever scheming, the soothed conscience deem'd!
Fate smiled, and speeded all for which I schemed.
My noble kinsman saw with grave applause
My sober'd moods, too wise to guess the cause.
''Tis well,' said he, one evening; 'you have caught
From me the ardour of the patriot's thought;
No more distinguish'd in the modes of vice,
Forsworn the race-course, and disdain'd the dice:
A nobler race, a mightier game await
The soul that sets its cast upon the state.
Thoughtful, poor, calm, yet eager; such, in truth,
He who is great in age should be in youth,
Lo, your commencement!'
"And my kinsman set
Before the eyes it brighten'd—the Gazette!
Oh, how triumphant, Calendar of Fame!
Halo'd in type, emerged the aspirant's name!
"'We send you second to a court, 'tis true;
Small, as befits a diplomat so new,'
Quoth my wise kinsman: 'but requiring all
Your natural gifts;—to rise not is to fall!
And harkye, stripling, you are handsome, young,
Active, ambitious, and from statesmen sprung!
Wed well—add wealth to power by me possess'd,
And sleep on roses,—I will find the rest!
But one false step,—pshaw, boy! I do not preach
Of saws and morals, his own code to each,—
By one false step, I mean one foolish thing,
And the wax melts, my Icarus, from your wing!
Let not the heart the watchful mind betray,—
Enough!—no answer!—sail the First of May!'
"Here, then, from vapour broke at last the sun!
Station, career, fame, fortune, all begun!
Now, greater need than ever to conceal
The secret spring that moved the speeding wheel;
And half forgetting that I wish'd forgot,
Each thought divides the absent from my lot.
One night, escaped my kinsman's hall, which blazed
With dames who smiled, and garter'd peers who praised,
I seek my lonely home,—ascend the stair,—
Gain my dim room,—what stranger daunts me there?
A grey old man!—I froze his look before; }
The Gorgon's eye scarce fix'd its victim more,— }
The bride's sad father on the bridegroom's floor! }
In the brief pause, how terrible and fast,
As on the drowning seaman, rush'd the past!
How had he learn'd my name,—abode,—the tie
That bound?—for all spoke lightning in his eye.
Lo, on the secret in whose darkness lay
Power, future, fortune, pour'd the hateful ray!
Thus silence ceased.