The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 27

Dreams of blue Heaven and Hope can dwell With Thraldom in its narrowest cell; The airy mind may pierce the bars, Elude the chain, and hail the stars: Canst thou no drearier dungeon guess In _s.p.a.ce_, when s.p.a.ce is loneliness?

The body's freedom profits none, The heart desires an equal scope; All nature is a gaol to one Who knows nor love nor hope!

VII.

One day, all summer in the sky, A happy crew came gliding by, With songs of mirth, and looks of glee-- A human sunbeam o'er the sea!

"O Warder of the Beacon," cried A n.o.ble youth, the helm beside, "This summer-day how canst thou bear To guard thy smileless rock alone, And through the hum of Nature hear No heart-beat, save thine own?"

VIII.

"I cannot bear to live alone, To hear no heart-heat, save my own; Each moment, on this crowded earth, The joy-bells ring some new-born birth; Can ye not spare one form--but one, The lowest--least beneath the sun, To make the morning musical With welcome from a human sound?"

"Nay," spake the youth,--"and is that all?

Thy comrade shall be found."

IX.

The boat sail'd on, and o'er the main The awe of silence closed again; But in the wa.s.sail hours of night, When goblets go their rounds of light, And in the dance, and by the side Of her, yon moon shall mark his bride, Before that Child of Pleasure rose, The lonely rock--the lonelier one, A haunting spectre--till he knows The human wish is won!

X.

Low-murmuring round the turret's base Wave glides on wave its gentle chase; Lone on the rock, the warder hears The oar's faint music--hark! it nears-- It gains the rock; the rower's hand Aids a gray, time-worn form to land.

"Behold the comrade sent to thee!"

He said--then went. And in that place The Twain were left; and Misery And Guilt stood face to face!

XI.

Yes, face to face _once more_ array'd, Stood the Betrayer--the Betray'd!

Oh, how through all those gloomy years, When Guilt revolves what Conscience fears, Had that wrong'd victim breathed the vow _That if but face to face_--And now, There, face to face with him he stood, By the great sea, on that wild steep; Around, the voiceless Solitude, Below, the funeral Deep!

XII.

They gazed--the Injurer's face grew pale-- Pale writhe the lips, the murmurs fail, And thrice he strives to speak--in vain!

The sun looks blood-red on the main, The boat glides, waning less and less-- No Law lives in the wilderness, Except Revenge--man's first and last!

Those wrongs--that wretch--could they forgive?

All that could sweeten life was past; Yet, oh, how sweet to live!

XIII.

He gazed before, he glanced behind; There, o'er the steep rock seems to wind The devious, scarce-seen path, a snake In slime and sloth might, labouring, make.

With a wild cry he springs;--he crawls; Crag upon crag he clears;--and falls Breathless and mute; and o'er him stands, Pale as himself, the chasing foe-- Mercy! what mean those clasped hands, Those lips that tremble so?

XIV.

"Thou hast cursed my life, my wealth despoil'd; My hearth "is cold, my name is soil'd; The wreck of what was Man, I stand 'Mid the lone sea and desert land!

Well, I forgive thee all; but be A human voice and face to me!

O stay--O stay--and let me yet One thing, that speaks man's language, know!-- The waste hath taught me to forget That earth once held a foe!"

XV.

O Heaven! methinks, from thy soft skies, Look'd tearful down the angel-eyes; Back to those walls to mark them go, Hand clasp'd in hand--the Foe and Foe!

And when the sun sunk slowly there, Low knelt the prayerless man in prayer.

He knelt, no more the lonely one; Within, secure, a comrade sleeps; That sun shall not go down upon A desert in the deeps.

XVI.

He knelt--the man who half till then Forgot his G.o.d in loathing men,-- He knelt, and pray'd that G.o.d to spare The Foe to grow the Brother there; And, reconciled by Love to Heaven, Forgiving--was he not forgiven?

"Yes, man for man thou didst create; Man's wrongs, man's blessings can atone!

To learn how Love can spring from Hate-- Go, Hate,--and live alone."

THE LAY OF THE MINSTREL'S HEART.

It was the time when Spring on Earth Gives Eden to the young; On Provence shone the Vesper star; Beneath fair Marguerite's lattice-bar The Minstrel, Aymer, sung--

"The year may take a second birth, But May is swift of wing; The Heart whose suns.h.i.+ne lives in thee One May from year to year shall see; Thy love, eternal spring!"

The Ladye blush'd, the Ladye sighed, All Heaven was in that Hour!

The Heart he pledged was leal and brave-- And what the pledge the Ladye gave?-- Her hand let fall a flower!

And when shall Aymer claim his Bride?

It is the hour to part!

He goes to guard the Saviour's grave;-- Her pledge, a flower, the Maiden gave, And _his_--the Minstrel's heart!

Behold, a Cross, a Grave, a Foe!

_What else--Man's Holy Land?_ High deeds, that level Rank to Fame, Have bought young Aymer's right to claim The high-born Maiden's hand.

High deeds should ask no meed below-- Their meed is in the sky.

The poison-dart, in Victory's hour, Has pierced the Heart where lies the flower, And hers its latest sigh!

It is the time when Spring on Earth Gives Eden to the young, And harp and hymn proclaim the Bride, Who smiles, Count Raimond, by thy side,-- The Maid whom Aymer sung!

And, darkly through the wa.s.sail mirth, A pale procession see!-- Turn, Marguerite, from the bridegroom turn-- Thine Aymer's heart--the funeral urn-- _His_ pledge, comes back to thee!

Lo, on the Urn how wither'd lies Thy gift--the scentless flower!

Amid those garlands, fresh and fair, That prank the hall and glad the air, What does that wither'd flower?