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.
"'When first my home you deign'd
To seek, what found you?—cheeks no tears had stain'd!
Untroubled hearts, and conscience clear as day:
And lips that loved, where now they fear, to pray:
'Twixt kin and kin, sweet commune undefiled—
The grateful father—the confiding child!
What now that home?—behold! its change may speak
In hair thus silver'd—in this furrow'd cheek!
My child'—(he paused, and in his voice, not eyes,
Tears seek the vent indignant pride denies)
'My child—God pardon me!—I was too proud
To call her "daughter!"—what shall call the crowd?
Man—man, she cowers beneath a Father's eye,
And shuns his blessing—with one wish to die;
And I that death-bed will resign'd endure
If—speak the word—the soul that parts is pure?'
"'Who dares deny it?' I began, but check'd
In the warm burst—cold wisdom hiss'd—'Reflect;
Thy fears had outstripp'd truth—as yet unknown,
The vows, the bond!—are these for thee to own?'
The father mark'd my pause, and changing cheek,
'Go on!—why falter if the truth thou speak?'
"Who dares deny it?"—Thou!—thy lip—thine eye—
Thy heart—thy conscience—these are what deny? O Heaven, that I were not thy priest!'
"His look
Grew stern and dark—the natural Adam shook
The reverend form an instant;—like a charm
The pious memory stay'd the lifted arm;
And shrunk to self-rebuke the threatening word,
'Man's not my weapons—I thy servant, Lord!'
Moved, I replied—'Could love suffice alone }
In this hard world—the love to thee made known, }
A bliss to cherish, 'twere a pride to own: }
And if I pause, and if I falter—yet
I hide no shame, I strive with no regret.
Believe mine honour—wait the ripening hour;