Mazelli, and Other Poems [32]
ev'n heaven's repeal.
I will not ask thee of the mysteries
That lie beyond Death's shadowy vale; but thou
Mayst tell us of the fate the Destinies
Wove for thine earthly sojourn. Was thy brow
Graced with the poet's, hero's garland? How
Dealt Fortune with thee? Did she curse or bless
Thee with her frown or smile? Speak! thou art now
Among the living,--they around thee press.
Still silent? Then thy lot we can but guess.
Perhaps thou wast a monarch, and hast worn
The sceptre of some real El Dorado!
Perhaps a warrior, and those arms have borne
The foremost shield, and dealt the deadliest blow
That drew the life-blood of a warring foe!
Perhaps thou wor'st the courtier's gilded thrall,--
Some glittering court's gay, proud papilio!
Perchance a clown, the jester of some hall,
The slave of one man, and the fool of all!
Oh life! and pride! and honour! come and see
To what a depth your visions tumble down!
Behold your wearer,--who shall say if he
Were monarch, warrior, parasite, or clown!
And ye, who talk of glory and renown,
And call them bright and deathless! and who break
Each dearer tie to grasp fame's gilded crown,
Come, hear instruction from this shadow speak,
And learn how valueless the prize ye seek!
See where ambition's loftiest flight doth tend,
Behold the doom perhaps of blood-bought fame,
And know that all which earth can give must end,
In dust and ashes, and an empty name!
Ye passions! which defy our pow'r to tame
Or curb your headlong tides, behold your home!
Love! see the breast where thou didst light thy flame!
Immortal spirit! see thy shattered dome!
When shall its hour of renovation come?
Shall life possess, and beauty deck again
That withered form, and foul and dusky cheek?
Will Death resign his dull and frozen reign,
And the immortal soul return to seek
Her long-deserted dwelling, and to break
The bondage which has held in icy chains
All that was mortal of thee? will she make
Her home in thee, and shall these poor remains
Share with her heaven's pleasures or hell's pains?
Wonder of wonders! who could look on thee
And afterward survey with curious eye
The mouldering shrines where dupes have bent the knee,
Where superstition, by hypocrisy
Nurtured and fed with tales of mystery,
Has oft with timid footstep trembling trod,--
All these are worse than nothing; come and see
Where once a deathless soul held its abode,--
The wrecked and ruined palace of a God!
Farewell! Not idly has this hour been spent.
Thy silent teachings I may not forget,--
More deeply, strangely, truly eloquent,
Than all the babbled words which ever yet
Have fall'n from living lips,--they shall be set
With the bright gems which Wisdom loves to keep;
And when my spirit against fate would fret,
My eyes shall turn to thee and cease to weep,
Till I too sleep death's deep and dreamless sleep!
TO ISABEL.
Come near me with thy lips, and, breathe o'er mine
Their breath, for I consume with love's desire,--
Thine ivory arms about me clasp and twine,
And beam upon mine eye thine eye's soft fire;
Clasp me yet closer, till my heart feels thine
Thrill, as the chords of Memnon's mystic lyre
Thrilled at the sun's uprising! thou who art
The lone, the worshipped idol of my heart!
There! balmier than the south wind, when it brings
The scent of aromatic shrub and tree,
And tropic flower on ifs glowing wings,
Thine odorous breath is wafted over me;
How to thy dewy lips mine own lip clings,
And my whole being is absorbed in thee;
And in my breast thine eyes have lit a fire
That never, never, never shall expire!
Eternal--is it not eternal--this
Our passionate love? what pow'r shall part us twain?
Not even Death! Life could bestow no bliss
Like death with thee, and I would rend its chain
If thou shouldst perish, for my heaven is
To gaze upon thee! I could bear all pain
Unsighing, so not parted from thy side,
My beautiful! my spirit's chosen bride!
They try to woo me from thy fond embrace,
To lure me from the light of those dear eyes;
They tell
I will not ask thee of the mysteries
That lie beyond Death's shadowy vale; but thou
Mayst tell us of the fate the Destinies
Wove for thine earthly sojourn. Was thy brow
Graced with the poet's, hero's garland? How
Dealt Fortune with thee? Did she curse or bless
Thee with her frown or smile? Speak! thou art now
Among the living,--they around thee press.
Still silent? Then thy lot we can but guess.
Perhaps thou wast a monarch, and hast worn
The sceptre of some real El Dorado!
Perhaps a warrior, and those arms have borne
The foremost shield, and dealt the deadliest blow
That drew the life-blood of a warring foe!
Perhaps thou wor'st the courtier's gilded thrall,--
Some glittering court's gay, proud papilio!
Perchance a clown, the jester of some hall,
The slave of one man, and the fool of all!
Oh life! and pride! and honour! come and see
To what a depth your visions tumble down!
Behold your wearer,--who shall say if he
Were monarch, warrior, parasite, or clown!
And ye, who talk of glory and renown,
And call them bright and deathless! and who break
Each dearer tie to grasp fame's gilded crown,
Come, hear instruction from this shadow speak,
And learn how valueless the prize ye seek!
See where ambition's loftiest flight doth tend,
Behold the doom perhaps of blood-bought fame,
And know that all which earth can give must end,
In dust and ashes, and an empty name!
Ye passions! which defy our pow'r to tame
Or curb your headlong tides, behold your home!
Love! see the breast where thou didst light thy flame!
Immortal spirit! see thy shattered dome!
When shall its hour of renovation come?
Shall life possess, and beauty deck again
That withered form, and foul and dusky cheek?
Will Death resign his dull and frozen reign,
And the immortal soul return to seek
Her long-deserted dwelling, and to break
The bondage which has held in icy chains
All that was mortal of thee? will she make
Her home in thee, and shall these poor remains
Share with her heaven's pleasures or hell's pains?
Wonder of wonders! who could look on thee
And afterward survey with curious eye
The mouldering shrines where dupes have bent the knee,
Where superstition, by hypocrisy
Nurtured and fed with tales of mystery,
Has oft with timid footstep trembling trod,--
All these are worse than nothing; come and see
Where once a deathless soul held its abode,--
The wrecked and ruined palace of a God!
Farewell! Not idly has this hour been spent.
Thy silent teachings I may not forget,--
More deeply, strangely, truly eloquent,
Than all the babbled words which ever yet
Have fall'n from living lips,--they shall be set
With the bright gems which Wisdom loves to keep;
And when my spirit against fate would fret,
My eyes shall turn to thee and cease to weep,
Till I too sleep death's deep and dreamless sleep!
TO ISABEL.
Come near me with thy lips, and, breathe o'er mine
Their breath, for I consume with love's desire,--
Thine ivory arms about me clasp and twine,
And beam upon mine eye thine eye's soft fire;
Clasp me yet closer, till my heart feels thine
Thrill, as the chords of Memnon's mystic lyre
Thrilled at the sun's uprising! thou who art
The lone, the worshipped idol of my heart!
There! balmier than the south wind, when it brings
The scent of aromatic shrub and tree,
And tropic flower on ifs glowing wings,
Thine odorous breath is wafted over me;
How to thy dewy lips mine own lip clings,
And my whole being is absorbed in thee;
And in my breast thine eyes have lit a fire
That never, never, never shall expire!
Eternal--is it not eternal--this
Our passionate love? what pow'r shall part us twain?
Not even Death! Life could bestow no bliss
Like death with thee, and I would rend its chain
If thou shouldst perish, for my heaven is
To gaze upon thee! I could bear all pain
Unsighing, so not parted from thy side,
My beautiful! my spirit's chosen bride!
They try to woo me from thy fond embrace,
To lure me from the light of those dear eyes;
They tell