Selected Poems (62 page)

None e’er could trace its laughter to his eye:

Yet there was softness too in his regard,

At times, a heart as not by nature hard,

305

But once perceived, his spirit seem’d to chide

Such weakness, as unworthy of its pride,

And steel’d itself, as scorning to redeem

One doubt from others’ half withheld esteem;

In self-inflicted penance of a breast

310

Which tenderness might once have wrung from rest;

In vigilance of grief that would compel

The soul to hate for having loved too well.

XVIII

There was in him a vital scorn of all:

As if the worst had fall’n which could befall,

315

He stood a stranger in this breathing world,

An erring spirit from another hurl’d;

A thing of dark imaginings, that shaped

By choice the perils he by chance escaped;

But ’scaped in vain, for in their memory yet

320

His mind would half exult and half regret:

With more capacity for love than earth

Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth,

His early dreams of good outstripp’d the truth,

And troubled manhood follow’d baffled youth;

325

With thought of years in phantom chase misspent,

And wasted powers for better purpose lent;

And fiery passions that had pour’d their wrath

In hurried desolation o’er his path,

And left the better feelings all at strife

330

In wild reflection o’er his stormy life;

But haughty still, and loth himself to blame,

He call’d on Nature’s self to share the shame,

And charged all faults upon the fleshly form

She gave to clog the soul, and feast the worm;

335

Till he at last confounded good and ill,

And half mistook for fate the acts of will:

Too high for common selfishness, he could

At times resign his own for others’ good,

But not in pity, not because he ought,

340

But in some strange perversity of thought,

That sway’d him onward with a secret pride

To do what few or none would do beside;

And this same impulse would, in tempting time,

Mislead his spirit equally to crime;

345

So much he soar’d beyond, or sunk beneath,

The men with whom he felt condemn’d to breathe,

And long’d by good or ill to separate

Himself from all who shared his mortal state;

His mind abhorring this had fix’d her throne

350

Far from the world, in regions of her own:

Thus coldly passing all that pass’d below,

His blood in temperate seeming now would flow:

Ah! happier if it ne’er with guilt had glow’d,

But ever in that icy smoothness flow’d!

355

’Tis true, with other men their path he walk’d,

And like the rest in seeming did and talk’d,

Nor outraged Reason’s rules by flaw nor start,

His madness was not of the head, but heart;

And rarely wander’d in his speech, or drew

360

His thoughts so forth as to offend the view.

XIX

With all that chilling mystery of mien,

And seeming gladness to remain unseen,

He had (if ’twere not nature’s boon) an art

Of fixing memory on another’s heart:

365

It was not love perchance—nor hate—nor aught

That words can image to express the thought;

But they who saw him did not see in vain

And once beheld, would ask of him again:

And those to whom he spake remembered well,

370

And on the words, however light, would dwell:

None knew, nor how, nor why, but he entwined

Himself perforce around the hearer’s mind;

There he was stamp’d, in liking, or in hate,

If greeted once; however brief the date

375

That friendship, pity, or aversion knew,

Still there within the inmost thought he grew.

You could not penetrate his soul, but found,

Despite your wonder, to your own he wound;

His presence haunted still; and from the breast

380

He forced an all unwilling interest:

Vain was the struggle in that mental net,

His spirit seem’d to dare you to forget!

XX

There is a festival, where knights and dames,

And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims,

385

Appear—a highborn and a welcome guest

To Otho’s hall came Lara with the rest.

The long carousal shakes the illumined hall,

Well speeds alike the banquet and the ball;

And the gay dance of bounding Beauty’s train

390

Links grace and harmony in happiest chain:

Blest are the early hearts and gentle hands

That mingle there in well according bands;

It is a sight the careful brow might smoothe,

And make Age smile, and dream itself to youth,

395

And Youth forget such hour was past on earth,

So springs the exulting bosom to that mirth!

XXI

And Lara gazed on these, sedately glad,

His brow belied him if his soul was sad;

And his glance follow’d fast each fluttering fair,

400

Whose steps of lightness woke no echo there:

He lean’d against the lofty pillar nigh,

With folded arms and long attentive eye,

Nor mark’d a glance so sternly fix’d on his—

Ill brook’d high Lara scrutiny like this:

405

At length he caught it, ’tis a face unknown,

But seems as searching his, and his alone;

Prying and dark, a stranger’s by his mien,

Who still till now had gazed on him unseen:

At length encountering meets the mutual gaze

410

Of keen enquiry, and of mute amaze;

On Lara’s glance emotion gathering grew,

As if distrusting that the stranger threw;

Along the stranger’s aspect, fix’d and stern,

Flash’d more than thence the vulgar eye could learn.

XXII

415

“Tis he!’ the stranger cried, and those that heard

Re-echoed fast and far the whisper’d word.

‘ ’Tis he! ‘– “Tis who? ‘ ’they question far and near,

Till louder accents rung on Lara’s ear;

So widely spread, few bosoms well could brook

420

The general marvel, or that single look:

But Lara stirr’d not, changed not, the surprise

That sprung at first to his arrested eyes

Seem’d now subsided, neither sunk nor raised

Glanced his eye round, though still the stranger gazed;

425

And drawing nigh, exclaim’d, with haughty sneer,

“Tis he!—how came he thence?—What doth he here?’

XXIII

It were too much for Lara to pass by

Such questions, so repeated fierce and high;

With look collected, but with accent cold,

430

More mildly firm than petulantly bold,

He turn’d, and met the inquisitorial tone—

‘My name is Lara!—when thine own is known,

Doubt not my fitting answer to requite

The unlook’d for courtesy of such a knight.

435

’Tis Lara!—further wouldst thou mark or ask?

I shun no question, and I wear no mask.’

‘Thou shunn’st no question! Ponder—is there none

Thy heart must answer, though thine ear would shun?

And deem’st thou me unknown too? Gaze again!

440

At least thy memory was not given in vain.

Oh! never canst thou cancel half her debt,

Eternity forbids thee to forget.’

With slow and searching glance upon his face

Grew Lara’s eyes, but nothing there could trace

445

They knew, or chose to know—with dubious look

He deign’d no answer, but his head he shook,

And half contemptuous turn’d to pass away;

But the stern stranger motion’d him to stay.

‘A word!—I charge thee stay, and answer here

450

To one, who, wert thou noble, were thy peer,

But as thou wast and art—nay, frown not, lord,

If false, ’tis easy to disprove the word—

But as thou wast and art, on thee looks down,

Distrusts thy smiles, but shakes not at thy frown.

455

Art thou not he? whose deeds—’