Virginia: A Tragedy, and Other Poems

by Marion Forster Gilmore

[Virginia runs to the curtained doorway, through which her father enters, and flings her arms in tearful ecstasy around his neck.

Virginius. What! tears, dear heart?
Virg. But smiles will clear them soon. I feared for thee—
Most foolishly, yet ne'ertheless, I feared.
Virginius. Most foolishly, indeed, my dark-haired Psyche,
Thou pure-embodied soul, my spirit's light.
Look up, dear child, and kiss thy father fond.
He's wearied and he needs his heart's restorer.

[The two come forward, he in his shining armor, she nestling birdlike in the shelter of his arm.

My daughter, I have seen Icilius.
Virg. Ah! Father!
Virginius (mockingly). "Ah! Father!" Ay, I saw him. Me he held
Firmly, besieging me with queries, all
Concerning thee. How had Virginia fared
While he was absent?—the presumptious boy!
Couldst thou fare otherwise than well with me?
And then with eager eyes he questioned as
To thy remarks, thy thoughts concerning him,
Thy attitude to things in general.
Where did Virginia spend her days? In school?
Was she by chance affrighted at the state
Of Rome since he had left her? Like unto
A feverish flame, he reached on every side,
Hungry for news of his Virginia.
Virg. (dreamily). My Love! My Love! Mine own Icilius!
Oh! gentle gods, my happiness exceeds
My worth. But yet, amen! So let it be. [Exeunt.

Scene III—A Garden overgrown with Roses.

Enter Virginia and Icilius. Twilight deepening into night.

Icilius. This is an eve of witchery, an hour
Alluring, swelled with love and weighted down
With dreams.
Virg. A time when all our best ideals
Are perfected. Reality is dead,
Deep-buried in her grave, and Heaven and Earth,
Swayed by the wand of sweet Imagination,
Languish beneath the velvet robes of Night.
Icilius. And 'tis a night more fair than when Dian
Cast lustre on the young, unwitting face
Of that deep-slumbering boy, Endymion.
Virg. Oh! happy boy! a goddess kissed thy hair,
Mused o'er thy brows, and sighed above thy lips.
Icilius. Thrice happy man, who treasures human love,
And humbly may accept that precious gift,
A mortal maiden's heart, nor sigh for more.
There is no more, nor anything so fair,
As such a dear possession. Happy he,
Who can, though but one instant, close and warm,
Hold woman's form, or kiss the starry light
Into her eyes, the blood into her cheeks!
And such a man, Virginia, am I.
Virg. (shyly). Not once in life, dear Love, but many times.
Icilius. Not once, not twice, not thrice, but many times.
Virg. What might lies in the warmth of kisses given!
Like wine they strengthen, quicken, stimulate,
Like flame they warm, like moonlight satisfy.
Like stars uplift above the common world.
Dear Love, I am a weak and fearful child
And need my wine, my flame, my moon and stars,
To fit me for the years that lie ahead.
Icilius. Thou lookest pale, in need of stimulant— [Kisses her.
Once more, sweetheart! Nay, wouldst thou draw away?
Virg. Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing sounds
Of stealthy listeners.
Icilius. Virginia,
Rest here upon this bed of roses. They
Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death,"
That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline,
And let thy tresses, darker than the night,
In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek,
Breathing thy love for me.
Virg. Icilius,
'Twas only yestereve I wandered here.
The sun was casting forth his fading beams
In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts
Were full of peace and thee. And in the light
Shed by the homing sun—the purple, red,
And gold—I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions.
Methought I saw the coming years of bliss,
Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care;
The sorrow of a mortal, and the care
Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose
Longings that I might always worthy be,
As was Eurydice of Orpheus.
Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared,
Turn not, stay not, fail not; a woman in
My services and steadfast faith, as well
As my most passionate love. My thoughts are grave;
Perchance they do accord not with thy mood?
Icilius. Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony,
My life and soul, my one bright guiding star.
Thy lover is a rude and careless man,
A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs,
Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee.
Yet when I look on thy beloved form
And perfect face, my sins are swept away,
As is the unclean wrack, upon the shore,
Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place
Are left pure pearls and shells and wonders such
As only dwell where man can never go—
Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow.
Virg. Last night I lay awake amid the dark,
Hearing the music of the fount without
My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke
The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering
Nature and sleeping men. Awake, I dreamed
Of all the bliss the gentle gods have placed
Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea,
High in my bosom rose the newborn love.
I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow,
At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs
And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart
Of nesting bird, then gaming courage, grows
Into a gentle wind until the soul
Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free,
Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea.

[A silence falls, during which a light begins to break in the eastern sky.

Icilius. We have outsighed the day; the rising moon
Her benediction smiles upon this spot,
Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia.
Virg. She signals faintly, from the brightening east,
To thee, my hero and my love.
Icilius. One kiss,
One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia.
May blessings come to thee with every ray
From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills
Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair.
Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem
A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon,
A white Diana of nocturnal glades,
Yet in the magic of the ardent sun
I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite,
A glowing type of passion and desire.
My love, my full and perfected ideal,
My Helen and my delicate Ænone.
My nymph and my incomparable queen
In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved!
I would not lose in any sense or thought
A moment spent with thee, Virginia.
Virg. (in his arms). Closer, ay, closer, as the days go by,
Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong,
Each in the other till we are not two,
A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh! say
How close I am to thee, Icilius?
Icilius. As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem;
As close as is the rose-flush in the heart
Of ocean's shell unto the shell itself;
Close as the star is to its atmosphere;
Wedded as day and night, no break, no void
Between, but only faintest change and lights,
Born of a higher world, a purer sphere,
Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky.

[The light visibly brightens, shining down upon the two. After a silence they stir and slowly walk apart, watching the sky. Icilius presently rejoins Virginia.