The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 176
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"Wonderful Spirit who dost make "Slumber so lovely that it seems "No longer life to live awake, "Since heaven itself descends in dreams,
"Why do I ever lose thee? why "When on thy realms and thee I gaze "Still drops that veil, which I could die, "Oh! gladly, but one hour to raise?
"Long ere such miracles as thou "And thine came o'er my thoughts, a thirst "For light was in this soul which now "Thy looks have into pa.s.sion burst.
"There's nothing bright above, below, "In sky--earth--ocean, that this breast "Doth not intensely burn to know, "And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest!
"Then come, oh Spirit, from behind "The curtains of thy radiant home, "If thou wouldst be as angel shrined, "Or loved and claspt as mortal, come!
"Bring all thy dazzling wonders here, "That I may, waking, know and see; "Or waft me hence to thy own sphere, "Thy heaven or--ay, even _that_ with thee!
"Demon or G.o.d, who hold'st the book "Of knowledge spread beneath thine eye, "Give me, with thee, but one bright look "Into its leaves and let me die!
"By those ethereal wings whose way "Lies thro' an element so fraught "With living Mind that as they play "Their every movement is a thought!
"By that bright, wreathed hair, between "Whose sunny cl.u.s.ters the sweet wind "Of Paradise so late hath been "And left its fragrant soul behind!
"By those impa.s.sioned eyes that melt "Their light into the inmost heart, "Like sunset in the waters, felt "As molten fire thro' every part--
"I do implore thee, oh most bright "And wors.h.i.+pt Spirit, s.h.i.+ne but o'er "My waking, wondering eyes this night "This one blest night--I ask no more!"
Exhausted, breathless, as she said These burning words, her languid head Upon the altar's steps she cast, As if that brain-throb were its last---
Till, startled by the breathing, nigh, Of lips that echoed back her sigh, Sudden her brow again she raised; And there, just lighted on the shrine, Beheld me--not as I had blazed Around her, full of light divine, In her late dreams, but softened down Into more mortal grace;--my crown Of flowers, too radiant for this world, Left hanging on yon starry steep; My wings shut up, like banners furled, When Peace hath put their pomp to sleep; Or like autumnal clouds that keep Their lightnings sheathed rather than mar The dawning hour of some young star; And nothing left but what beseemed The accessible, tho' glorious mate Of mortal woman--whose eyes beamed Back upon hers, as pa.s.sionate; Whose ready heart brought flame for flame, Whose sin, whose madness was the same; And whose soul lost in that one hour For her and for her love--oh more Of heaven's light than even the power Of heaven itself could now restore!
And yet, that hour!--
The Spirit here Stopt in his utterance as if words Gave way beneath the wild career Of his then rus.h.i.+ng thoughts--like chords, Midway in some enthusiast's song, Breaking beneath a touch too strong; While the clenched hand upon the brow Told how remembrance throbbed there now!
But soon 'twas o'er--that casual blaze From the sunk fire of other days-- That relic of a flame whose burning Had been too fierce to be relumed, Soon pa.s.st away, and the youth turning To his bright listeners thus resumed:--
Days, months elapsed, and, tho' what most On earth I sighed for was mine, all-- Yet--was I happy? G.o.d, thou know'st, Howe'er they smile and feign and boast, What happiness is theirs, who fall!
'Twas bitterest anguish--made more keen Even by the love, the bliss, between Whose throbs it came, like gleams of h.e.l.l In agonizing cross-light given Athwart the glimpses, they who dwell In purgatory[9] catch of heaven!
The only feeling that to me Seemed joy--or rather my sole rest From aching misery--was to see My young, proud, blooming LILIS blest.
She, the fair fountain of all ill To my lost soul--whom yet its thirst Fervidly panted after still, And found the charm fresh as at first-- To see _her_ happy--to reflect Whatever beams still round me played Of former pride, of glory wreckt, On her, my Moon, whose light I made, And whose soul wors.h.i.+pt even my shade-- This was, I own, enjoyment--this My sole, last lingering glimpse of bliss.
And proud she was, fair creature!--proud, Beyond what even most queenly stirs In woman's heart, nor would have bowed That beautiful young brow of hers To aught beneath the First above, So high she deemed her Cherub's love!
Then too that pa.s.sion hourly growing Stronger and stronger--to which even Her love at times gave way--of knowing Everything strange in earth and heaven; Not only all that, full revealed, The eternal ALLA loves to show, But all that He hath wisely sealed In darkness for man _not_ to know-- Even this desire, alas! ill-starred And fatal as it was, I sought To feed each minute, and unbarred Such realms of wonder on her thought As ne'er till then had let their light Escape on any mortal's sight!
In the deep earth--beneath the sea-- Thro' caves of fire--thro' wilds of air-- Wherever sleeping Mystery Had spread her curtain, we were there-- Love still beside us as we went, At home in each new element And sure of wors.h.i.+p everywhere!
Then first was Nature taught to lay The wealth of all her kingdoms down At woman's wors.h.i.+pt feet and say "Bright creature, this is all thine own!"
Then first were diamonds from the night, Of earth's deep centre brought to light And made to grace the conquering way Of proud young beauty with their ray.
Then too the pearl from out its sh.e.l.l Unsightly, in the sunless sea, (As 'twere a spirit, forced to dwell In form unlovely) was set free, And round the neck of woman threw A light it lent and borrowed too.
For never did this maid--whate'er The ambition of the hour--forget Her s.e.x's pride in being fair; Nor that adornment, tasteful, rare, Which makes the mighty magnet, set In Woman's form, more mighty yet.
Nor was there aught within the range Of my swift wing in sea or air, Of beautiful or grand or strange, That, quickly as her wish could change, I did not seek, with such fond care, That when I've seen her look above At some bright star admiringly, I've said, "Nay, look not there, my love,[10]
"Alas, I _can not_ give it thee!"
But not alone the wonders found Thro' Nature's realm--the unveiled, material, Visible glories, that abound Thro' all her vast, enchanted ground-- But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal, Dwells far away from human sense, Wrapt in its own intelligence-- The mystery of that Fountainhead, From which all vital spirit runs, All breath of Life, where'er 'tis spread Thro' men or angels, flowers or suns-- The workings of the Almighty Mind, When first o'er Chaos he designed The outlines of this world, and thro'
That depth of darkness--like the bow, Called out of rain-clouds hue by hue[11]
Saw the grand, gradual picture grow;-- The covenant with human kind By ALLA made--the chains of Fate He round himself and them hath twined, Till his high task he consummate;-- Till good from evil, love from hate, Shall be workt out thro' sin and pain, And Fate shall loose her iron chain And all be free, be bright again!
Such were the deep-drawn mysteries, And some, even more obscure, profound, And wildering to the mind than these, Which--far as woman's thought could sound, Or a fallen, outlawed spirit reach-- She dared to learn and I to teach.
Till--filled with such unearthly lore, And mingling the pure light it brings With much that fancy had before Shed in false, tinted glimmerings-- The enthusiast girl spoke out, as one Inspired, among her own dark race, Who from their ancient shrines would run, Leaving their holy rites undone, To gaze upon her holier face.
And tho' but wild the things she spoke, Yet mid that play of error's smoke Into fair shapes by fancy curled, Some gleams of pure religion broke-- Glimpses that have not yet awoke, But startled the still dreaming world!
Oh! many a truth, remote, sublime, Which Heaven would from the minds of men Have kept concealed till its own time, Stole out in these revealments then-- Revealments dim that have forerun, By ages, the great, Sealing One![12]
Like that imperfect dawn or light[13]
Escaping from the Zodiac's signs, Which makes the doubtful east half bright, Before the real morning s.h.i.+nes!
Thus did some moons of bliss go by-- Of bliss to her who saw but love And knowledge throughout earth and sky; To whose enamored soul and eye I seemed--as is the sun on high-- The light of all below, above, The spirit of sea and land and air, Whose influence, felt everywhere, Spread from its centre, her own heart, Even to the world's extremest part; While thro' that world her rainless mind Had now careered so fast and far, That earth itself seemed left behind And her proud fancy unconfined Already saw Heaven's gates ajar!
Happy enthusiast! still, oh! still Spite of my own heart's mortal chill, Spite of that double-fronted sorrow Which looks at once before and back, Beholds the yesterday, the morrow, And sees both comfortless, both black-- Spite of all this, I could have still In her delight forgot all ill; Or if pain _would_ not be forgot, At least have borne and murmured not.
When thoughts of an offended heaven, Of sinfulness, which I--even I, While down its steep most headlong driven-- Well knew could never be forgiven, Came o'er me with an agony Beyond all reach of mortal woe-- A torture kept for those who know.
Know _every_ thing, and--worst of all-- Know and love Virtue while they fall!
Even then her presence had the power To soothe, to warm--nay, even to bless-- If ever bliss could graft its flower On stem so full of bitterness-- Even then her glorious smile to me Brought warmth and radiance if not balm; Like moonlight o'er a troubled sea.
Brightening the storm it cannot calm.
Oft too when that disheartening fear, Which all who love, beneath yon sky, Feel when they gaze on what is dear-- The dreadful thought that it must die!
That desolating thought which comes Into men's happiest hours and homes; Whose melancholy boding flings Death's shadow o'er the brightest things, Sicklies the infant's bloom and spreads The grave beneath young lovers' heads!
This fear, so sad to all--to me Most full of sadness from the thought That I most still live on,[14] when she Would, like the snow that on the sea Fell yesterday, in vain be sought; That heaven to me this final seal Of all earth's sorrow would deny, And I eternally must feel The death-pang without power to die!
Even this, her fond endearments--fond As ever cherisht the sweet bond 'Twixt heart and heart--could charm away; Before her looks no clouds would stay, Or if they did their gloom was gone, Their darkness put a glory on!
But 'tis not, 'tis not for the wrong, The guilty, to be happy long; And she too now had sunk within The shadow of her tempter's sin, Too deep for even Omnipotence To s.n.a.t.c.h the fated victim thence!
Listen and if a tear there be Left in your hearts weep it for me.
'Twas on the evening of a day, Which we in love had dreamt away; In that same garden, where--the pride Of seraph splendor laid aside, And those wings furled, whose open light For mortal gaze were else too bright-- I first had stood before her sight, And found myself--oh, ecstasy, Which even in pain I ne'er forget-- Wors.h.i.+pt as only G.o.d should be, And loved as never man was yet!
In that same garden where we now, Thoughtfully side by side reclining, Her eyes turned upward and her brow With its own silent fancies s.h.i.+ning.
It was an evening bright and still As ever blusht on wave or bower, Smiling from heaven as if naught ill Could happen in so sweet an hour.
Yet I remember both grew sad In looking at that light--even she, Of heart so fresh and brow so glad, Felt the still hour's solemnity, And thought she saw in that repose The death-hour not alone of light, But of this whole fair world--the close Of all things beautiful and bright-- The last, grand sunset, in whose ray Nature herself died calm away!
At length, as tho' some livelier thought Had suddenly her fancy caught, She turned upon me her dark eyes, Dilated into that full shape They took in joy, reproach, surprise, As 'twere to let more soul escape, And, playfully as on my head Her white hand rested, smiled and said:--
"I had last night a dream of thee, "Resembling those divine ones, given, "Like preludes to sweet minstrelsy, "Before thou camest thyself from heaven.
"The same rich wreath was on thy brow, "Dazzling as if of starlight made; "And these wings, lying darkly now, "Like meteors round thee flasht and played.
"Thou stoodest, all bright, as in those dreams, "As if just wafted from above, "Mingling earth's warmth with heaven's beams, "And creature to adore and love.
"Sudden I felt thee draw me near "To thy pure heart, where, fondly placed, "I seemed within the atmosphere "Of that exhaling light embraced;
"And felt methought the ethereal flame "Pa.s.s from thy purer soul to mine; "Till--oh, too blissful--I became, "Like thee, all spirit, all divine!
"Say, why did dream so blest come o'er me, "If, now I wake, 'tis faded, gone?
"When will my Cherub s.h.i.+ne before me "Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone?
"When shall I, waking, be allowed "To gaze upon those perfect charms, "And clasp thee once without a cloud, "A chill of earth, within these arms?
The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 176
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The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 176 summary
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