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AURORA LEIGH,
AND OTHER POEMS.

BY

ELIZABETH Barrett B
OARRETT DROWNING

FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITION,

OORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR

New York :

JAMES MILLER, PUBLISHED,

647 Broadway.
1874.
 The right of publishing this book in the United States hav-

ing been liberally purchased by Mr. James Miller, // is hoped

that there will be no interference with the same.

Robert Browning.
London, February 20, 1862.

By Bxchap.|a:e:
Army and N.; ,^^y
q\^
Mav S7 1929

Anderson b' Ramsay, Printers, 28 Frankfort Street, Kezv York.

i.

i DEDICATIOlSr.
t _______

TO MY FATHER,
When your eyes fall upon this page of dedication, and you start to see to

whom it is inscribed, your first thought will be of the time far off when I was a
child and wrote verses, and when I dedicated them to you, who were my public

and my critic. Of all that such a recollection implies of saddest and sweetest to

both of us, it would become neither of us to speak before the world : nor would it

be possible for us to speak of it to one another, with voices that did not falter.

Enough, that what is in my heart when I write thus, will be fully known to yours.

And my desire is that j'ou, who are a witness how if this art of poetry had

been a less earnest object to me, it must have fallen from exhausted hands before
this day,- -that ^'oic, who have shared with me in things bitter and sweet, softening

or enhancing them every day — that ^'au, who hold with me over all sense of loss

and transiency, one hope by one Name, — may accept the inscription of these
volumes, the exponents of a few years of an existence which has been sustained

and comforted by you as well as given. Somewhat more faint-hearted than I

used to be, it is my fancy thus to seem to return to a visible personal dependence

on you, as if indeed I were a child again ; to conjure your beloved image be-
tween myself and the public, so as to be sure of one smile, —and to satisfy my
heart while I sanctify my ambition, by associating with the great pursuit of my
life, its tenderest and holiest affection.

Your
E. B. B.
 CONTENTS.

Aurora Leigh 7

Prometheus Bound i8i

A Lament for Adonis 201

Bertha in the Lane 203

That Day 206

Life and Love. , 206

The Runaway Slave 206

A Child's Grave at Florence 210

Lady Geraldine's Courtship 213

Lord Walter's Wife 223

Sonnets from the Portuguese 225

Fourfold Aspect » 250

 —
! ' — T ;

AURORA LEIGH.
FIRST BOOK. I write. My
mother was a Florentine,
Of writing many books there is no end ;
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from
seeing me
And I have written much in prose and
verse When scarcely I was four years old ; my
life
For others' uses, will write now for
mine, A poor spark snatched up from a failing
Will write story for my better self,
my lamp
As when you paint your portrait for a V/hich went out therefore. She was
friend.
weak and frail
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it She could not bear the joy of giving
Long after he has ceased to love you, life—
just
The mother's rapture slew her. If her
kiss
To hold together what he was and is.
Had a longer weight upon my lips,
left

I, writing thus, am still what men call It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
young ;
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
I have not so
far left the coasts of life With the new order. As it was, indeed,
To travel inland, that I cannot hear I felt a mother-want about the world.

That murmur of the outer Infinite And still went seeking, like a bleatingj
Which unweaned babies smile at in their lamb
sleep Left out at night in shutting up the
When wondered at for smiling ; not so fold.
far, As restless as a nest-deserted bird
But still I catch my mother at her post Grown chill through something being
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up, away, though what
'
Hush, hush —here's
too much noise ! It knows
born
not. I, Aurora Leigh, was
while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her To make my father sadder, and myself
word Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel Tlieway to rear up children, (to be just,)
My father's slow hand, when she had They know a simple, merry, tender
left us both. knack
Stroke out my childish curls across h.is Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes,
knee ;
And stringing pretty words that make
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew no sense,
He liked it better than a better jest)
And kissing full sense into empty words ;
Inquire how many golden scudi went Which things are corals to cut life upon,
To make such ringlets. O my father's Although such trifles children learn by :

hand, such,
Stroke heavily, heavily the poor hair Love's holy earnest in a pretty play,
down, And get not over-early solemnised,
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy But seeing, as in a rose-bush, Love's
knee Divine,
I'm still too young, too young, to sit Which burns and hurts not,— not a sin-
alone. gle bloom,—
 . ; — —
AUJ^OI^A LEIGH.

Become aware and unafraid of Love. That but to see him in the first surprise
Such good do mothers. Fathers love as Of widower and father, nursing me,
well Unmothered little child of four years
— Mine did, I know, —
but still with old.
heavier brains, His large man's hands afraid to touch
And wills more consciously responsible, my curls.
And not as wisely, since less foolishly As if the gold would tarnish, —his grave
So mothers have God's license to be lips
missed Contriving such a miserable smile,
As if he knew needs must, or I should
My father was an austere Englishman, die.
Who, after a dry life-time spent at home And yet 'twas hard, —
would almost make
In college-learnmg, law, and parish talk, the stones
Was flooded with a passion unaware. Cry out for pity. There's a verse he set
His whole provisioned and complacent In Santa Croce to her memory,
past *
Weep for an infant too young to weep
Drowned out from him that moment. much
As he stood When death removed this mother '

In Florence, where he had come to stops the mirth

spend a month To-day on women's faces when they
And note the secret of Da Vinci's walk
drains. With rosy children hanging on their
He musing somewhat absently perhaps gowns.
Some English question whether men . . Under the cloister to escape the sun
should pay That scorches in the piazza. After
The unpopular but necessary tax which
With left or right hand — in the alien He left our Florence and made haste to
sun hide
In that great square of the Santissima, Himself, his prattling child, and silent
There drifted past him (scarcely marked grief,
enough Among the mountains above Pelago ;

To move his comfortable island-scorn,) Because unmothered babes, he thought,

A train of priestly banners, cross and had need
psalm. Of mother nature more than others use.
The white-veiled rose-crowned maidens And Pan's white goats, with udders
holding up warm and full
Tall tapers, weighty for such wrists, Of mystic contemplations, come to feed
aslant Poor milkless lips of orphans like his
To the blue luminous tremor of the air, own
And letting drop the white wax as they Such scholar-scraps he talked, I've lieard
went from friends,
To eat the bishop's wafer at the church ;
For even prosaic men, who wear grief
From which long trail of chanting priests long,
and girls Will get to wear it as a hat aside
A face flashed like a cymbal on his face, With a flower stuck in't. Father, then,
And shook with silent clangour brain and child.
and heart, We lived among the mountains many
Transfiguring him to music. Thus, even years,
thus. God's silence on the outside of the house,
He too received his sacramental gift And we, who did not speak too loud
With eucharistic meanings lor ; he within ;
loved. And old Assunta to make up the fire.
Crossing herself whene'er a sudden flame
And thus beloved, she died. I've heard Which lightened from the firewood, made
it said alive
 : — — ) — —
AURORA LEIGH.
That picture of my mother on the wall. Where the Babe sucked ; or, Lamia in
The painter drew it after she was dead ; her first
And when the face was finished, throat Moonlighted pallor, ere she shrunk and
and hands, blinked,
Her cameriera carried him, in hate And, shuddering, wriggled down to the
Of the English-fashioned shroud, the unclean ;

last brocade Or, my own mother, leaving her last

She dressed in at the Pitti. ' He should smile
paint In her last kiss, upon the baby-mouth
No sadder thing than that,' she swore, My father pushed down on the bed for
'
to wrong that,—
Her poor signora.' Therefore very- Or my dead mother, without smile or
strange kiss.
The effect was. I, a little child, would Buried at Florence. All which images.
crouch Concentred on the picture, glassed them-
For hours upon the floor with knees selves
drawn up, Before my meditative childhood, . as .

And gaze across them, half in terror, The incoherencies of change and death
half
_
Are represented fully, mixed and merg-
In adoration, at the picture there, ed.
That swan-like supernatural white life. In the smooth fair mystery of perpetual
Just sailing upward from the red stiff Life.
silk
Which seemed to have no part in it, nor And while I stared away my childish
power wits
To keep it from quite breaking out of Upon my mother's picture, (ah, poor
bounds child !

For hours I sate and stared. Assunta's My father, who through love had sud-
awe denly
And my poor father's melancholy eyes Thrown oft the old conventions, broken
Still pointed that way. That way, went loose
my thoughts From chin-bands of the soul, like Laza-
When wandering beyond sight. And as rus,
I grew Yet had no time to learn to talk and
In years, I mixed, confused, uncon- walk
sciously, Or grow anew familiar with the sun,
Whatever read or heard or dreamed
I last Who had reached to freedom, not to
Abhorrent, admirable, beautiful, action, lived,
Pathetical, or ghastly, or grotesque. But lived as one entranced, with
With still that face . which did not . . thoughts, not aims,
therefore change, Whom love had unmade from a common
But kept the mystic level of all forms man
And fears and admirations, was by turns But not completed to an uncommon
Ghost, fiend, and angel, fairy, witch, and man,
sprite, My father taught me what he had learnt
A dauntless Muse who eyes a dreadful the best
Fate, Before he died and left me, — grief and
A loving Psyche who loses sight of Love, love.
A Medusa, with mild milky brows
still And, seeing we had books among the
All curdled and all clothed upon with hills.
snakes Strong words of counselling souls con-
Whose slime falls fast as sweat will or, ; federate
anon. With vocal pines and waters, — out of
Our Lady of the Passion, stabbed with books
swords He taught me all the ignorance of men.
 ; ; ;

AURORA LEIGH.
And how Gcxl laughs in heaven when A wearv, wormy darkness, spurred 5'

any man the flank

Says Here I'm learned; this,
'
I under- With flame, that it should eat and end
stand ;
itself
In that. I am never caught at fault or Like some tormented scorpion. Then,
doubt.' at last,
He sent the schools to school, demon- I do remember there came
clearly, how
strating A stranger with authority, not right,
A will pass for such through one
fool (I thought not) who commanded, caught
mistake, me up
While a philosopher will pass for such. From old Assunta's neck ; how, with a
Through said mistakes being ventured shriek.
in the gross She let me go, —
while I, with ears too
And heaped up to a system. full
I am like, Of my father's siience, to shriek back a
They tell me, my dear father. Broader word,
brows In all a child's astonishment at grief
Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Stared at the wharf-edge where sh.c
Of delicate
grave
features, —paler, near as
My
stood and moaned.
poor Assunta, where she stood and
;

But then mother's smile breaks up

my moaned !

the whole, The white walls, the blue hills, my Italy,

And makes it better sometimes than Drawn backward from the shuddering
itself. steamer-deck,
Like one in anger drawing back her
So, nine full years, our days were hid skirts
with God Which suppliants catch at. Then tlie
Among his mountains. I was just thir- bitter sea
teen, Inexorably pushed between us both,
Still growing like the plants from unseen And sweeping up the ship with my de-
roots spair
In tongue-tied Springs, — and suddenly Threw us out as a pasture to the stars.
awoke
To full life and life's needs and agonies.
Ten nights and days we voyaged on the
With an intense, strong, struggling
deep
heart beside
A stone-dead father. Life, struck sharp Ten nights and days without the com-
jnon face
on death.
Makes awful lightning. His last word
Of any day or night ; the moon and sun
was, Love—''
Cut off from the green reconciling earth.
* Love, my child, love,love '—(then he !
To starve. into a blind ferocity
had done with grief)
And glare unnatural the very sky ;

(Dropping its bell-net down upon the sea

'Love, my child.' Ere I answered he
was gone, As if no human heart should 'scape
the alive,)
And none was left to love in all
Bedraggled with the desolating salt,
world.
LTiitil it seemed no more that holy heaven

There, ended childhood : what suc- To which my father went. All new, and
ceeded next strange—
I recollect as, after fevers, men The universe turned stranger, for a child.
Thread back the passage of delirium,
Missing the turn still, baffled by the Then, land !— then, England ! oh, the
door frosty cliffs
Smooth endless days, notched here and Looked cold upon me. Could I find a
there with knives home
 —
AURORA LEIGH.
Among those mean red houses through Kept mot'ft for ruth than pleasure,— if
the fog? past bloom,
And when I heard my father's language Past fading also.
first She had lived, we'll say,
From alien lips whicli had no kiss for A harmless life, she called a virtuous hfe,
mine, A quiet life, which was not life at all,
I wept aloud, then laughed, then wept, (But that, she had not lived enough to
then wept. know)
And some one near me said the child was Between the vicar and the county squires.
mad The lord-lieutenant looking down some-
Through much sea-sickness. The train times
swept us on. From the empyrean to assure their souls
Was this my father's England? the great Against chance vulgarisms, and, in the
isle? abyss,
The groimd seemed cut up from the fel-
The apothecary looked on once a year.
lowship To prove their soundness of humility.
Of verdure, field from field, as man from The poor-club exercised her Christian
man ;
gifts
The skies themselves looked low and Of knitting stockings, stitching petti-
positive. coats.
As almost you could touch them with a Because we are of one flesh after all
hand. And need one flannel, (with a proper
And dared to do it they were so far off sense
From God's celestial crystals ;all things
Of difference in the quality) — and still
blurred The book-club, guarded from your mod-
And dull and vague. Did Shakespeare ern trick
and his mates Of shaking dangerous questions from
Absorb the light here? not a hill or — the crease.
stone Preserved her intellectual. She had
With heart to strike a radiant colour up lived
Or active outline on the indifferent air !
A sort of cage-bird life, born in a cage.
Accounting that to leap from perch to
I think I see my father's sister stand perch
Upon the hall-step of her country-house Was act and joy enough for any bird.
To give me welcome. She stood straight Dear heaven, how silly are the things
and calm, that live
Her somewhat narrow forehead braided In thickets, and eat berries !

tight I, alas,
As if for taming accidental thoughts A wild bird scarcely fledged, was brought
From possible pulses brown hair prick-
;
to her cage.
ed with gray And she was there to meet me. Very
By frigid use of life, (she was not old kind.
Although my father's elder by a year) Bring the clean water ; give out the fresh
A nose drawn sharply, yet in delicate seed.
lines ;
A close mild mouth, a little soured about She stood upon the steps to welcome
The ends, through speaking unrequited me,
loves, Calm, in black garb. I clung about her
Or peradventure niggardly half-truths ; reck,
Eyes of no color, —
once they might have Young babes, who catch at every shred
smiled, of wool
But never, never have forgot themselves To draw the new light closer, catch and
In smiling; cheeks in which was yet a cling
rose [book. Less blindly. In my ears, my father's
Of perished summers, like a rose in a word
 :

AURORA LEIGH.
Hummed ignorantly, as the sea in shells, To her sort of hate, to entertain it with ;

• Love, love, my
child.' She, black And so, her very curiosity
there with my grief, . Became hate too, and all the idealism
Might feel my love— she was his sister She ever used iu life, was used for hate,
once— 'J'ill hate, so nourished, did exceed at
I clung to her. A moment she seemed last
moved, The love from which it grew, in strength
Kissed me with cold lips, suffered me to and heat,
cling, And wrinkled her smooth conscience
And drew me feebly through the hall into with a sense
The room she sate in. Of disputable virtue (say not, sin)
There, with some strange spasm When Christian doctrine was enforced
Of pain and passion, she wrung loose at church.
my hands
Imperiously, and held me at arm's And thus my father's sister was to me
length, My mother's hater. From that day, she
And with two gray-steel naked-bladed did
eyes Her duty to me, (I appreciate it
Searched through my face,— ay, stabbed In her own word as spoken to herself)
it through and through. Her duty, in large measure, well-pressed
Through brows and cheeks and chin, as out.
if to find But measured always. She was gener-
A wicked murderer in my
innocent face. rous, bland,
If not here, there perhaps. Then, More courteous than was tender, gave
drawing breath, . me still

She struggled for her ordinary calm, The first place,— as if fearful that God's
And missed it rather,— told me not to saints
shrink, Would look down suddenly and say,
As if she had told me not to lie or '
Herein
swear, You missed a point, I think, through
•
She loved my father and would love me lack of love.'
too Alas, a mother never is afraid
As long as I deserved it.' Very kind. Of speaking angerly to any child,
Since love, she knows, is justified of love.
Iunderstood her meaning afterward ;

She thought to find my mother in my And was a good child on the whole,
I, I

face.
A meek and manageable child. Why
And questioned it for that. For she, not?
my aunt, I did not live, to have the faults of life

Had loved my father truly, as she There seemed more true life in my fath-
could.
er's grave
And hated, with the gall of gentle souls, Than in all England. Since that threw
My Tuscan mother who had fooled meoff
away Who fain would cleave, (his latest will,
A man from wise courses, a good
wise they say.
man Consigned me to his land) I only thought
Of lying quiet there where I was thrown
From obvious duties, and, depriving her.
His sister, of the household precedence. Like sea-weed on the jocks, and suffer-
Had wronged his tenants, robbed his ing her
native land. To prick me to a pattern with her pin.
And made him mad, alike by life and Fibre from fibre, delicate leaf from leaf,
death, And dry out from my drowned anatomy
In love and sorrow. She had pored for The last sea-salt left in me.

years So it was.
What sort of woman could be suitable I broke the copious curls upon my head
 —
AURORA LEIGH. "3

In braids, because she liked smooth-or- I danced the polka and Cellarius,
dered hair. Spun glass, stuffed birds, and modelled
I left off saying my
sweet Tuscan words flowers in wax.
Which still at any stirring of the heart Because she liked accomplishments in
Came up to float across the English girls.
phrase. I read a score of books on womanhood
As lilies, {Bene or c/ie che) because
. . To prove, if women do not think at all,
She liked my father's child to speak his They may teach thinking, (to a maiden-
tongue. aunt
I learnt the collects and the catechism, Or else the author)— books that boldly
The creeds, from Athanasius back to assert
Nice, Their right of comprehending husband's
The Articles . . the Tracts against the talk
times, When not too deep, and even of answer-
(By no means Buonaventure's Prick of '
ing
Love,') With pretty ' may it please you,' or so '

And various popular synopses of it is,'

Inhuman doctrines never taught by John, Their rapid insight and fine aptitude.
Because she liked instructed piety. Particular worth and general missionari-
I learnt my complement of classic French ness,
(Kept pure of Balzac and neologism,) As long as they keep quiet by the fire
And German also, since she liked a range And never say no when the world say
'
'

Of liberal education, tongues, not — '

ay,'^
books. For that — their angelic reach
is fatal,
I learn*, a little algebra, a little Of virtue, chiefly used to and darn,_ sit
Of the mathematics, brushed with ex- — And fatten household sinners, — in their,
treme flounce brief,
The circle of the sciences, because Potential faculty in everything
She misliked women who are frivolous. Of abdicating power in it : she owned
I learnt the royal genealogies She liked a woman to be womanly,
Of Oviedo, the internal laws And English women, she thanked God
Of the Burmese empire, by how . . and sighed,
many feet (Some people always sigh in thanking
Mount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe, God)
What navigable river joins itself Were models to the universe. And last
To Lara, and what census of the year I learnt cross-stitch, because she did not
five like
Was taken at Klagenfurt, —because she To see me wear the night with empty
liked hands,
A _

general insight into useful facts. A-doing nothing. So, my shepherdess

I learnt much music, such as — would Was something after all, (the pastoral
have been saints
As quite impossible in Johnson's day Be jiraised for't) leaning lovelorn with
As still it might be wished —fine sleights pink eyes
of hand To match her shoes, when I mistook the
And unimagined fingering, shuffling off silks ;

The hearer's soul through hurricanes of Her head uncrushed by that round weight
notes [tumes of hat
To a noisy Tophet and I drew cos-
; . . So strangely similar to the tortoise-shell
From French engravings, nereids neatly Which slew the tragic poet.
> draped.
With smirks of simmering godship, — I By the way,
washed in The works of women are symbolical.
Landscapes from nature (rather say, We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our
washed out.) sight.
 ' — '

AURORA LEIGH.
Producing what? A pair of slippeVs, As if I should not, harkenmg my own
sir, steps,
To put on when j'ou're weary — or a Misdoubt I was
read her books,
alive. I
stool Was civil to her cousin, Romney Leigh,
To tumble over and vex you . .
'
curse Gave ear to her vicar, tea to her visitors,
that stool
!
And heard them whisper, when I changed
Or else at best, a cushion, where you a cup,
lean (I blushed for joy at that) 'The Italian —
And sleep, and dream of something we child,
are not. For her blue eyes and her quiet ways.
all
But would be for your sake. Alas, alas ! Thrives ill in England she is paler yet ;

This hurts most, this that, after all,

. . Than when we came the last time she ;

we are paid will die.'

The worth of our work, perhaps.
In looking down ' Will clie.' My cousin, Romney Leigh,
Those years of education, (to return) blushed too,
I wonder if Brinvilliers suffered more
With sudden anger, and approaching
me
In the water torture,
ing flood
flood succeed-
. .

Said low between his teeth You're

— '

To drench the incapable throat and split wicked now!

the veins . .
You wish to die and leave the world a-
Than I did. Certain of your feebler dusk
souls For others, with j'our naughty liglit
Go out in such a process many pine ;
blown out ?
To a sick, inodorous light my own en- ;
I looked into his face defyingly.
dured :
He might have known that, being wliat
I was,
I had relations in the Unseen, and drew
The elemental nutriment and heat 'Twas natural to like to get away
From nature, as earth feels the sun at As far as dead folk can and then indeed ;

nights, Some people make no trouble when they

die.
Or as a babe sucks surely in the dark,
I kept the life thrust on me, on the out-
He turned and went abruptly, slammed
side the door
Of the inner life with all its ample room And shut his dog out.
For heart and lungs, for will and intel-
lect.
Romney, Romney Leigh.
God, Ihave not named my cousin hitherto,
Inviolable by conventions.
I thank thee for that grace of thine
And yet I used him as a sort of friend ;
!

My elder by few years, but cold and shy

At first, And absent tender when he thought
. .

no life whicli was not patience,

I felt of it.

did Which scarcely was imperative, grave

The thing she bade me, without heed to betimes,
a thing As well as early master of Leigh Hall,
Beyond it, sate in just the chair she Whereof the nightmare state upon his
placed. youth
With back against the window, to ex- Repressing all its seasonable delights,
clude And agonising with a ghastly sense
The sight of the great lime-tree on the Of universal hideous want and wrong
lawn. To incriminate possession. When he
Which seemed to have come on purpose came
from the woods From college to the country, very oft
To bring the house a message, ay, and — He crossed the hill on visits to my aunt,
walked With gifts of blue grapes from the hot'
Demurely in her carpeted low rooms, houses,
 — —;

AURORA LEIGH. IS

A —
book in one hand, mere statisticsj (if I did not die. But slowly, as one in
I chanced to lift the cover) count of all swoon,
The goats whose beards grow sprouting To whom life creeps back in the form of
down toward hell, death.
Against God's separative judgment- With a sense of separation, a blind pain
hour. Of blank obstruction, and a roar i' the
And she, she almost loved him, —even ears
allowed Of visionary chariots which retreat
That sometimes he should seem to sigh As earth grows clearer . slowly, by de- .

my way ;
grees,
It made him easier to be pitiful, I woke, rose up where was I ? in the
. .

And sighing was his gift. So, undis- world

turbed For uses therefore I must count worth
At whiles she let him shut my music up while.
And push my needles down, and lead
me out I had alittle chamber in the house,
To see in that south angle of the house As green as any privet-hedge a bird
The figs grow black as if by a Tuscan Might choose to build in, though the
rock. nest itself
On some light pretext. She would turn Could show but dead-brown sticks and
her head straws the walls
;

At other moments, go to fetch a thing, Were green, the carpet was pure green,
And leave me breath enough to speak the straight
with him. Small bed was curtained greenly, and
For his sake it was simple.
; the folds
Sometimes too Hung green about the window, which
He would have saved me utterly, it let in
seemed, The out-door world with all its greenery.
He stood and looked so You could not push your head out and
Once, he stood so near escape
He dropped a sudden hand upon my A dash of dawn-dew from the honey-
head suckle,
Bent down on woman's work, as soft as But so you were baptised into the grace
rain And privilege of seeing. . .

But then I rose and shook it off as fire, First, the lime,
The stranger's touch that took my (I had enough, there, of the lime, be
father's place sure,
Yet dared seem soft. My morning-dream was often hummed
I used him for a friend away
Before T ever knew him for a friend. By bees in it ;) past the lime, the
the
'Twas better, 'twas worse also, after- lawn,
ward : Which, after sweeping broadly round
We came so close, we saw our differences the house.
Too intimately. Always Romney Leigh Went trickling through the shrubberies
Was looking for the worms, I for the in a stream
gods. Of tender turf, and wore and lost itself
A godlike nature his; the gods look Among the acacias, over which, you saw
down, The irregular line of elms by the deep
Incurious of themselves ; and certainly lane
*Tis well I should remember, how, those Which stopped the grounds and dammed
days, the overflow
I was a worm too, and he looked on inc. Of arbutus and laurel. Out of sight
The lane was sunk so deep, no foreign
;

A little by his act perhaps, yet more tramp

By something in me, surely not my will, Nor drover of wild ponies out of Wales
 ; —
i6 AURORA LEIGH.
Could guess if lady's hall or tenant's Electric, panting from their full deep
lodge hearts
Dispensed such odours, though his — Beneath the influent heavens, and wait-.
stick well crooked ing for
Might reach the lowest trail of blossom- Communion and commission. Italy
ing briar Is one thing, England one.
Which dipped upon the wall. Behind On English ground
the elms, You understand the letter ere the
. .

And through their tops, you saw the fall

folded hills How Adam lived in a garden. All the
Striped up and down with hedges, (burly fields
oaks Are tied up fast with hedges, nosegay-
Projecting from the line to show them- like;
selves) Thehills are crumpled plains, the plains —
Through which my cousin Romney's parterres.
chimneys smoked The trees, round, woolly, ready to be
As still as when a silent mouth in frost clipped
—
Breathes showing where the woodlands And if
;

you seek for any wilderness

hid Leigh Hall You find, at best, a park. A nature
While, far above, a jut of table-land, tamed
A promontory without water, stretched, And grown domestic like a barn-door
You could not catch it if the days were fowl,
thick, Which does not awe you with its claws
Or took it for a cloud but, otherwise
; and beak,
The vigorous sun would catch it up at Nor tempt you to an eyrie too high up.
eve But which, in cackling, sets you think-
And useit for an anvil till he had filled ing of
The shelves of heaven with burning Your eggs to-morrow at breakfast, in the
thunderbolts, pause
Protesting against night and darkness :
Of finer meditation.
then,
^ Rather say,
When all his setting trouble was re-
•
A sweet familiar nature, stealing in
solved As a dog might, or child, to touch your
To a trance of passive glory, you might haad
see Or pluck your gown, and humbly mind
In apparition on the golden sky you so
(Alas, my Giotto's background!) the Of presence and affection, excellent
sheep run For inner uses, from the things without.
Along the tine clear outline, small as
mice I could not be unthankful, I who was
That run along a witch's scarlet thread. Entreated thus and holpen. In the room
I speak of, ere the house was well awake,
And also after it was well asleep,
Not a grand nature. Not my chestnut- I sat alone, and drew the blessing in
woods Of all that nature. With a gradual step,
Of Vallombrosa, cleaving byjhe spurs A stir among the leaves, a breath, a ray,
To the precipices. Not my headlong It came in softly, while the angels made
leaps A place for it beside me. The moon
Of waters, that cry out for joy or fear came.
In leaping through the palpitating pines, And swept my chamber clean of foolish
Like a white soul tossed out to eternity thoughts.
With thrills of time upon it. Not in- The sun came, saying, ' Shall I lift this
deed light
My multitudinous mountains, sitting in Against the lime-tree, and you will not
The magic circle, with the mutual touch look?
 ' —
AURORA LEIGH.
I make the birds sing — listeii ! . . but, Smiling for joy.
for you, Capacity for joy
God never hears your voice, excepting Admits temptation. It seemed, next.
when worth while
You lie upon the bed at nights and To dodge the sharp sword set against my
weep.' life;
To slip down stairs through all the sleepy-
Then, something moved me. Then, I house.
wakened up As mute as any dream there, and escape
More slowly than I verily write now, As a soul from the body, out of doors,
But wholly, at last, I wakened, opened Glide through the shrubberies, drop into
wide the lane.
The window and my soul, and let the And wander on the hills an hour or two,
airs Then back again before the house should
And out-door sights sweep gradual gos- stir.

pels in,
Regenerating what I was. O life, Or on in my chamber green.
else I sat
How oft we throw it off and think, And lived my life, and thought my
'
Enough, thoughts, and prayed
Enough of life in so much !
— here's a My prayers without the vicar read my ;

cause books.
For rupture ;— herein we must break Without considering whether they were
with Life, fit

Or be ourselves unworthy ; here we are To do me good. Mark, there. We get

wronged. no good
Maimed, spoiled for aspiration : farewell By being ungenerous, even to a book.
Life !
And calculatmg profits . . so much help
—And froward babes, we hide
so, as By so much reading. It is rather when
our eyes We gloriously forget ourselves and
And think all ended. Then, Life calls — plunge
to us Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's
In some transformed, apocalyptic voice, profound,
Above us, or below us, or around : Impassioned for its beauty and salt of
Perhaps we name it Nature's voice, or truth—
Love's, 'Tis then we get the right good from a
Tricking ourselves, because we are more book.
ashamed
To own our compensations than our I read much. What my father taught
griefs :
before
Still, Life's voice ! — still, we make our From many a volume, Love re-empha-
peace with Life. sised
Upon the self-same pages Theophrast :

And L so young then, was not sullen. Grew tender with the memory of his
Soon eyes,
I used to get up early, just to sit And .(Elian made mine wet. The trick
And watch the morning quicken in the of Greek
gray. And Latin, he had taught me, as he
And hear the silence open like a flower. would
—
Leaf after leaf, and stroke with listless Have taught me wrestling or the game
hand of fives
The woodbine through the window, till If —
such he had known, most like a ship-
at last wrecked man
Icame to do it with a sort of love. Who heaps his single platter with goats'
At foolish unaware: whereat I smiled, cheese
A melancholy smile, to catch myself And scarlet berries ; or like any man
 ; ;

AURORA LEIGH.
"Who loves but one, and so gives all at Are winged like angels. Everv knife
once, that strikes.
Because he has rather than because
it, Is edged from elemental fire to assail
He counts it worthy. Thus, my father A spiritual life. The beautiful seems
gave ; right
And thus, as did the women formerly By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
By young Achilles, when tiiey pinned Because of weakness. Power is justi-
the veil fied,
Across the boy's audacious front, and Though armed against St. Michael.
swept Many a crown
With tuneful laughs the silver-fretted Covers bald foreheads. In the book-
rocks. world, true.
He wrapt his daughter in his large
little There's no lack, neither, of God's saints
Man's doublet, careless did it fit or no. and kings.
That shake the ashes of the grave aside
From their calm locks, and undiscomfited
But, after I. had read for memory,
The path my father's Look steadfast truths against Time's
I read for hope.
changing mask.
foot
True, many a prophet teaches in the
Had trod me out, which suddenly broke
roads
off,_
True, many a seer pulls down the flam-
(What time he dropped the wallet of the
ing heavens
flesh
And passed) alone carried on, and set
I
Upon his own head in strong martyr-
My child-heart 'gainst the thorny under-
dom.
wood,
In order to light men a moment's space.
To reach the grassy shelter of the trees.
But stay !— who judges ?— who distin-
guishes
Ah, babe i' the wood, without a brother-
'Twixt Saul and Nahash justly, at first
babe !

sight.
My own self-pity, like the red-breast
And leaves king Saul precisely at the
bird.
sin.
Flies back to cover all that past with
leaves.
To serve king David? who discerns at
once
The sound of the trumpets, when the
Sublimest danger, over which none trumpets blow
weeps, For Alaric as well as Charlemagne ?
When any young wayfaring soul goes Who judges wizards, and can tell true
forth seers
Alone, unconscious of the perilous road. From conjurors? The child, there?
The day-sun dazzling in his limpid eyes. Would you leave
To thrust his own way, he an alien, That child to wander in a battle-field
through And push his innocent smile against the
The world of books
think it fine.
Ah, you you ! !
— guns?
You clap hands fair day
—A you'
! '
—
Or even
Grown ragged
in a catacomb .. his torch
.

in the fluttering air, and

cheer him on. all
As if the worst, could happen, were to The dark a-mutter round him ? not a
rest child.
Too long beside a fountain. Yet, be-

Behold
hold,
— the world of books
I read books bad and good some bad —
! is still the and good
world ; At once (good aims not always make
:

And worldlings in it are less merciful good books

And more puissant. For the wicked Well-tempered spades turn up ill-smell-
there ing soils
 — — —
AURORA LEIGH.
Which strikes out from you, how, you
In digging vineyards, even) books, that
prove cannot tell,
God's being so definitely, that man's And why, you know not (did you elim- —
doubt inate,
Grows self-defined the other side the line, That such as you, indeed, should ana-
Made Atheist by suggestion; moral lyse ?)
Goes straight and fast as light, and high
books.
Exasperating to license; genial books, as God.
Discounting from the human dignity ;

And merry books, which set you weep- The cygnet finds the water ; but the
ing when
man
The sun shines, — ay, and melancholy Is in ignorance of his element,
born
books,
any one
And feels out blind at first, disorganised
Which make you laugh that
Ey sin i' the blood,— his spirit-insight
should weep dulled
In this disjointed life for one wrong Pres-
And crossed by his sensations.
more. ently
He feels it quicken in the dark some-
The world of books is still the world, I times ;

write, When mark, be reverent, be obedient.

And both worlds have God's providence, For such dumb motions of imperfect life
thank God, Are oracles of vital Deity
To keep and hearten wltli some strug- : Attesting the Hereafter. Let who says
indeed.
gle, '
The soul's a clean white paper,' rather
Among the breakers, some hard swim- say,
muig through A palimpsest, a prophet's holograph
—
The deeps I lost breath in my soul Defiled, erased and covered by a
sometimes, monk's,
And cried, '
God save me if there's any The apocalypse, by a Longus ! poring
God, on
But, even so, God saved me ; and being Which obscene text, we may discern
dashed perhaps
From error on to error, every turn Some fair, fine trace of what was written
Still brought me nearer to the central once.
truth. Some upstroke of an alpha and omega
Expressing the old Scripture.
I thought so. All this anguish in the
thick Books, books, books !

Of men's opinions . . press and coun- I had found the secret of a garret-room
terpress. Piled high with cases in my father's
Now up, now down, now underfoot, and name
now
;

Piled high, packed large, where, creep- —

Emergent . . all the best of it, perhaps, ing 111 and out
But throws you back upon a noble trust Among the giant fossils of my past.
And use of your own instinct, —merely Like some small nimble mouse between
proves the ribs
Pure reason stronger than bare infer- Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and
ence there
At strongest. Try it, fix against heav- — At this or that box, pulling through the
en's wall gap,
Your scaling ladders of school logic In heats of terror, haste, victorious jov.
mount The first book first. And how I felt it

Step by step !
— Sight goes faster ; that beat
still ray Under my pillow, in the morning's dark..
 AURORA LEIGH.
An hour before the sun would let me Look round, look up, and feel, a mo-
read I ment's space.
My books ! That carpet-dusting, though a pretty
At last, because the time was ripe, trade,
I chanced upon the poets. Is not the imperative labour after all.
As the earth
Plunges in fury, when the internal fires
Have reached and pricked her heart, My own best poets, am I one with you,
and, throwing flat 'I'hat thus I love you, — or but one
The marts and temples, the triumphal through love ?
gates Does all this smell of thyme about my
And feet
towers of observation, clears her-
self Conclude my visit to your holy hill
To elemental freedom — thus, my soul, In personal presence, or but testify
The rustling of your vesture through my
At poetry's divine first finger touch,
Let go conventions and sprang up sur- dreams
prised, With influent odours? When my joy
Convicted of the great eternities and pain.
Before two worlds. My thought and aspiration, like the
What's this, Aurora Leigh, stops
You write so of the poets, and not laugU ? Of pipe or flute, are absolutely dumb
Those virtuous liars, dreamers after Unless melodious, do you play on me.
dark, —
My pipers, and if, sooth, you did not
Exaggerators of the sun and moon, blow.
And soothsayers in a tea-cup? Would no sound come ? or is the music
I write so
mine,
Of the only truth-tellers, now left to As a man's voice or breath is called his
God, own,
The only speakers of essential truth, Imbreathed by the Life-breather?
Opposed to relative, comparative, There's a doubt
And temporal truths the only holders
;
For cloudy seasons !

.
by But the sun was high
His sun-skirts, through
conventional When first I felt my pulses set them-
grey glooms ;
selves
The only teachers who instruct mankind. For concord ; when the rhythmic turbu-
From just a shadow on a charnel wall. lence
To find man's veritable stature out. Of blood and brain swept outward upon
Erect, sublime, —
the measure of a man, words,
And that's the measure of an angel, As wind upon the' alders, blanching
says them
The apostle. Ay, and while your com- By turning up their under-natures till
mon men They trembled in dilation. O delight
Lay telegraphs, gauge railroads, reign, And triumph of the poet,— who would
reap, dine, say
And dust the flaunty carpets of the world A man's mere 'yes,' a woman's common
For kings to walk on, or our president, 'no,'
Tlie poet suddenly will catch them up A little human hope of that or this.
With his voice like a thunder This . .
'
And says the word so that it burns you
is soul. through
This is life, this word is being said in With a special revelation, shakes the
heaven. heart
Here's God down on us what are you ! Of men and women in the world,
all the
about ?' As one came back from the dead and
if
How all those workers start amid their spoke,
work, With eyes too happy, a familiar thin^
 —
;

AURORA LEIGH.
Become divine i' the utterance ! while The thing's too common.
for him Many fervent souls
Tiie poet, speaker, he expands with Strike rhyme on rhyme, who would strike
joy steel on steel
The palpitating angel in his flesh If steel had offered, in a restless heat
Thrills inly with consenting fellowship Of doing something. Many tender souls
To those innumerous spirits who sun Have strung their losses on a rhyming
themselves thread,
Outside of time. As children, cowslips the more pains
: —
O life, O poetry, they take.
— Which means life in life 1 cognisant of The work more withers. Young men,
life ay, and maids,
Beyond
truth
this blood-beat, passionate for — Too often
verse,
sow their wild oats in tame

—
Bevond these senses, poetry, my life.
My eagle, with both grappling feet still
Before they
vine
sit down under their own
hot And live for use. Alas, near all the
From Zeus's thunder, who has ravished birds
me —
Will sing at dawn, and yet we do not
Away from rU the shepherds, sheep, and take
dogs, The chaffering swallow for the holy lark.
And set me in the Olympian roar and
round In those days, though, I never analysed.
Of luminous faces, for a cup-bearer. Not even myself Analysis comes late.
To keep the mouths of all the godheads You catch a sight of Nature, earliest,
moist In full front sun-face, and your eyelids
For everlasting laughters, I, myself — wink
Half drunk across the beaker with their And drop before the wonder of 't you ;

eyes ! miss
How those gods look ! The form, through seeing the light. I
Enough so, Ganymede. lived, those days.
V/e shall not bear above a round or And wrote because I lived — unlicensed
two else:
We drop the golden cup at Here's foot My heart beat in my brain. Life's vio-
And swoon back to the earth,— and find lent flood
ourselves Abolished bounds, and, —
which my
Face-down among the pine-cones, cold neighbour's field.
with dew. Which mine, what mattered ? It is thus
While the dogs bark, and many a shep- in youth
herd scoffs, We play at leap-frog over the god Term ;

'
What's come now to the youth ?
' Such The love within us and the love without
ups and downs Are mixed, confounded if we are loved ;

Have poets. or love,

Am I such Indeed ? The name We scarce distinguish : thus with other
Is royal, and to sign it like a queen. power ;

Is what I dare not,— though some royal Being acted on and acting seem the
blood same:
Would seem to tingle in me now and In that first onrush of life's chariot-
then, wheels,
With sense of power and ache,— with We know not if the forests move or we.
imposthumes
And manias usual to the race. How- And so, like most young poets, in a
beit flush
I dare not 'tis too easy to go mad.
: Of individual life I poured myself
And ape a Bourbon in a crown ot straws : Along the vems of others, and achieved
 ; — ; —
AURORA LEIGH.
Mere lifeless imitations of live verse, By Keat's soul, the man who never
And made the living answer for the stepped
dead, In gradual progress like another man.
Profaning nature. Touch not, do not '
But, turning grandly on his central self,
taste. Ensphered himself in twenty perfect
Nor handle,' — we're too legal, who write years,
young :
—
And died, not young, (the life of a long
We beat the phorminx till we hurt our life.

thumbs. Distilled to a mere drop, falling like a

As if still ignorant of counterpoint tear
We call the Muse . 'O Muse, benig- . Upon the world's cold cheek to make it

nant Muse ! '

burn •

As if we had seen her purple-braided For ever ;) by that strong excepted soul,
head I count it strange, and hard to under-
With the eyes in it, start between the stand
boughs That nearly all young poets should write
As often as a stag's. What make-be- old;
lieve, That Pope was sexagenary at sixteen.
With so much earnest ! what effete re- And beardless Byron academical,
sults, And so with others. It may be, per-
From virile efforts ! what cold wire- haps,
drawn odes, Such have not settled long and deep
From such white heats ! —bucolics, where enough
the cow In trance, to attain to clairvoyance, — and
Would scare the writer if they splashed still
the mud «^ The memory mixes with the vision,
In lashing off the flies, — didactics, driv- spoils,
en And works it turbid.
Against the heels of what the master Or perhaps, again
said In order to discover the Muse- Sphinx,
And counterfeiting epics, shrill with The melancholy desert must sweep
trumps round,
A babe might blow between two strain- Behind you as before.
ing cheeks For me, I wrote
Of bubbled rose, to make his mother False poems, like the rest, and thought
laugh ;
them true,
And elegiac griefs, and songs of love. Because myself was true in writing them.
Like cast-off nosegays picked up on the I peradventure have writ true ones since
road. With less complacence.
The worse for being warm : all these But I could not hide
things, writ My quickening inner life from those at
On happy mornings, with a morning watch.
heart. They saw a light at a window now and
That leaps for love, is active for re- then.
solve. They had not set there. Who had set it

Weak for art only. Oft, the ancient there ?.

forms
Will thrill, indeed, in carrying the young My father's sister started when she
blood. caught
The wine-skins, now and then, a little My soul agaze in my eyes. She could
warped, not say
Will crack even, as the new wine gurgles Ihad no business with a sort of soul.
in. But plainly she objected, and demurred —
Spare the old bottles ! — spill not the new That souls were dangerous things to
wine. carry straight
 —
' ; —
AURORA LEIGH.
Through all the spilt saltpetre of the And said, ' We'll live, Aurora ! we'll be
world. strong.
The dogs are on us — but we will not die.
She said sometimes, Aurora, have j'ou '

done Whoever lives true life, will love true

Your task this morning? have you read — love.
that book ? I learnt to love that England. Very
And are you ready for the crochet oft,
here ?' Before the day was born, or otherwise
As if she said, I know there's some-
'
Through secret windings of the after-
thing wrong noons,
I know I have not ground you down I threw my hunters off and plunged my-
enough self
To flatten and bake you to a wholesome Among the deep hills, as a hunted stag
crust Will take the waters, shivering with the
For household uses and proprieties, fear
Before the rain has got into my barn And passion of the course. And when
And set the grains a-sprouting. What, at last
you're green Escaped,- so many a green slope built
With out-door impudence? you almost on slope
grow ? Betwixt me and the enemy's house be-
To which I answered, ' Would she hear hind,
my task, I dared to rest, or wander, in a rest —
And verify my abstract of the book ? Made sweeter for the step upon the
Or should I sit down to the crochet grass,—
work? And view the ground's most gentle dim-
Was such her pleasure?' . . Then I plement,
sateand teased (As if God's finger touched but did not
The patient needle till it spilt the thread press
Which oozed off from it in meandering In making England) such an up and
lace down
From hour to hour. I was not, there- Of verdure, — nothing too much up or
fore, sad ; down,
My soul a work apart
was singing at A ripple of land ; such little hills, the
Behind the wall of sense, as safe from sky
harm Can stoop to tenderly and the wheatfields
As sings the lark when sucked up out of climb ;

sight, Such nooks of valleys, lined with orchi'

In vortices of glory and blue air. ses,
Fed full of noises by invisible streams ;
And through forced work and spon-
so, And open pastures, where you scarcely
taneous work, tell
The inner life informed the outer life, White daisies from white dew, — at inter-
Reduced the irregular blood to settled vals
rhythms. The mythic oaks and elm-trees standing
Made cool the forehead with fresh- out
sprinkling dreams. Self-poised upon their prodigy of shade,
And, "rounding to the spheric soul the I thought my father's land was worthy
thin too
Pined body, struck a colour up the Of being my Shakspeare's.
cheeks. Very oft alone.
Though somewhat faint. I clenched my Unlicensed not unfreqiiently with leave
;

brows across To walk the third with Romney and his

My blue eyes greatening in the looking- friend
glass, The rising painter, Vincent Carnngton,
 — : '

AURORA LEIGH.
Whom men judge hardly as bee-bon- Which look as if the May-flower had
neted. caught life
Because he holds that, paint a body And palpitated forth upon the wind.
well, Hills, vales, woods, netted in a silver
You paint a soul by implication, like mist.
The grand first Master. Pleasant Farms, granges, doubled up among the
walks for if !
hills.
He said . .
'
When I was last in Ita- And cattle grazing in the watered vales.
ly' •
And cottage chimneys smoking from the
It sounded as an instrument that's woods.
played And cottage-gardens smelling every-
Too far off for the tune — and yet it's where,
fine Confused with smell of orchards. See,' '

To listen. I said,
Ofter we walked only two, '
And see ! is God not with us on the
If cousin Romney pleased to walk with earth ?

me. And shall we put him down by aught we

We read, or talked, or quarrelled, as it do?
chanced Who says there's nothing for the poor
We were not lovers, nor even friends and vile
well-matched. Save poverty and wickedness ? behold !

Say rather, scholars upon different And ankle-deep in English grass I leap-
tracks, ed,
And thinkers disagreed ; he, overfull And clapped my hands, and called all
Of what is, and I, haply, overbold very fair.
For what might be.
But then the thrushes sang, In the beginning when God called all
And shook my pulses and the elms' new good,
leaves, Even then was evil near us, it is writ.
At which I turned, and held my finger But we indeed who call things good and
up. fair.

And bade him mark that, howsoe'er the The evil is upon us while we speak ;

world Deliver us from evil, let us pray.

Went ill, as he related, certainly
The thrushes still sang in it. At the
word SECOND BOOK.
His brow would soften, and he bore —
with me Times followed one another. Came a
In melancholy patience, not unkind, morn
While breaking into voluble ecstacy stood upon the brink of twenty years,
I
I flattered all the beauteous country And looked before and after, as I stood
round. —
Woman and artist, either incomplete.
All poets use . the skies, the clouds,
. Both credulous of completion. There I
the fields, held
The happy violets hiding from the roads The whole creation in my little cup,
'I'he primroses run down to, carrying And smiled with thirsty lips before I
gold. drank
The tangled hedgerows, where the cows 'Good health to you and me, sweet
push out neighbour mine.
Impatient horns and tolerant churning And all these peoples.'
mouths I was glad, that day ;

'Twixt dripping ash-boughs, —hedgerows The June was in me, with its multitudes
all alive Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
With birds and gnats and large white And rosebuds reddening where the calyx
butterflies split.
 ' '! ' —
Al/IiOJ^A LEIGH.

I felt so youns, so strong, so sure of Ah--there's my choice, — that ivv on the

God! wall.
So glad, I could not choose be very wise ! That headlong ivy not a leaf will grow !

And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull But thinking of a wreath. Large leaves,
My childhood backward in a childish smooth leaves.
jesi Serrated like my vines, and half as green.
To see the face oft once more, and fare- I such ivy bold to leap a height
like ;

well ! 'Twas strong to climb as good to grow !

In which fantastic mood I bounded forth on graves

—
At early morning, would not wait so As twist about a thyrsus pretty too, ;

long (And that's not ill) when twisted round a

As even to snatch niy bonnet by the comb.'
strings, Thus speaking to myself, half singing it,
But, brushing a green trail across the Because some thoughts are fashioned
lawn like a bell
With my gown in the dew, took will and To ring witli once being touched, I drew
way a wreath
Among the acacias of the shrubberies. Drenched, blinding me with dew, across
To fly my fancies in the open air my brow
And keep my birthday, till my aunt And fastening it behind so, turning . .

awoke faced
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I . . My public cousin Romney with ! — —
murmured on a mouth
As honeyed bees keep humming to them- Twice graver than his eyes.
selves ; I stood there fixed
'
The worthiest poets have remained un- My arms up, like the caryatid, sole
crowned Of some abolished temple, helplessly
Till death has bleached their foreheads to Persistent in a gesture which derides
the bone, A former purpose. Yet my blush was
And so with me it must be, unless I flame,
prove As if from flax, not stone.
Unworthy of the grand adversity. '
Aurora Leigh,
And certainly I would not fail so much. The earliest of Aurora's !

What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day Hand stretched out

In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it. I clasped, as shipwrecked men will clasp
Before my brows be numbed as Dante's a hand.
own Indifferent to the sort of palm. The
To all the tender pricking of such tide
leaves ? Had caught me at my pastime, writing
Such leaves ! what leaves? down
I pulled the branches down, My foolish name too near upon the sea
To choose from. Which drowned me with a blush as fool-
'
Not the bay I choose no bay! ; ish. ' You,
The fates deny us if we are overbold : My cousin !

—
Nor myrtle which means chiefly love ; The smile died out in his eyes
and love And dropped upon his lips, a cold dead
Is something awful which one dares not weight.
touch For just a moment . .
'
Here's a book
So early o' mornings. This verbena I found

The
strains
point of passionate fragrance ; and
No name
form
writ on it —poems, by the
;

hard by. Some Greek upon the margin, — lady's

This guelder rose, at far toosHght a beck Greek,
Of the wind, will toss about her flower- Without the accents. Read it ? Not a
apples. word.
 — :

AURORA LEIGH.
I saw at once the thing had witchcraft That hold a rhythmic thought, must act
in't, perforce
Whereof the reading calls up dangerous For my part I choose headaches, and —
spirits ; to-day's
I rather bring it to the witch.' My birthday.'
'
My book !
'
Dear Aurora, choose instead
You found it ' . . To cure them. You have balsams.'
'
In the hollow by the stream 'I perceive
That beach leans down into of which — The headache is too noble for my sex.
you said You think the heartache would sound
The Oread in it has a Naiad's heart decenter.
And pines for waters.' Since that's the woman's special, proper
'
Thank you.' ache.
' Thanks to yoti, And altogether tolerable, except
My cousin ! that I have seen you not too To a woman.'
mucli Saying which, I loosed my wreath.
Witch, scholar, poet, dreamer, and the And swinging it beside me as I walked.
rest, Half petulant, half playful, as we walked,
To be a woman also.' I sent a sidelong look to find his
With a glance thought,—
The smile rose in his eyes again, and As on
falcon set falconer's finger may.
touched With sidelong head, and startled, braving
The ivy on my forehead, light as air. eye,
I answered gravely, Poets needs must '
Which means, You'll see you'll see
'
— !

be I'll soon take flight

Or men or women— mote's the pity.' You shall not hinder.' He, as shaking
Ah, '
out
But men, and still less women, happily, His hand and answering, ' Fly then,' did
Scarce need be poets. Keep to the not speak,
green wreath. Except by such a gesture. Silently
Since even dreaming of the "stone and We paced, until, just coming into sight
bronze Of the house-windows, he abruptly
Brings headaches, pretty cousin, and caught
defiles At one end of the swinging wreath, and
The clean white morning dresses.' said,
'
So you judge ! Aurora !' There I stopped short, breath
Because I love the beautiful, 1 must and all.
Love pleasure chiefly, and be over-
charged '
Aurora, let's be serious, and throw by
For ease and whiteness. Well— you This game of head and heart. Life
know the world, means, be sure,
And only miss your cousin 'tis not ; Both heart and head, both active, both —
much. complete.
But learn this : I would rather take my And both in earnest. Men and women
part make
With God's Dead, who afford to walk in The world, as head and heart make
white human life.

Yet spread his glory, than keep quiet Work man, work woman, since there's
here, work to do
And gather up my feet from even a In this beleaguered earth, for head and
step, heart.
.

For fear to sou

.,
my gown in so much
,
And thought can never do the work of
dust. love :

I choose to walk at all risks.— Here, if But work for ends, I mean for uses
heads not
 AURORA LEIGH. 27

Tor such sleek fringes (do you call them '

Ah— exactly that
ends? Where's Moses ? — is a Moses to be
Still less God's glory) as we sew our- found ?
selves You'll seek him vainly in the bulrushes,
Upon the velvet of those baldaquins While I in vain touch cymbals. Yet
Held 'twixt us and the sun. That book concede.
of yours, Such sounding brass has done some ac-
I have not read a page of; but I toss tual good
A —
rose up it falls calyx down, you see ! (The application in a woman's hand.
The chances are that, being a woman, If that were credible, being scarcely
young, spoilt,)
And pure, with such a pair of large, calm In colonising beehives.'
eyes, 'There it is 1
—
You write as well . . and ill • . upon the You play beside a death-bed like a child,
whole. Yet measure to yourself a prophet's
As other women. If as well, what then ? place
If even a httle better, still what then ?
. . To teach the living. None of all these
We want the Best in art now, or no art. things.
The tiine is done for facile settings up Can women understand. You generalise
Of minnow gods, nymphs here and Oh, nothifig !-not even grief! Your
tritons there ; ,
quick-breathed hearts,
The polytheists have gone out in God, So sympathetic to the personal pang.
That unity of Bests. No best, no God ! Close on each seyarate knife-stroke,
And so with art, we say. Give art's yielding up
divine. A whole life at each wound incapable ;

Direct, indubitable, real as griefs Of deepening, widening a large lap of

Or leave us to the grief we grow our- life
selves To hold the world-full woe. The human
Divine by overcoming with mere hope race
And most prosaic patience. You, you To you means, such a such a child, or
are young man.
As Eve with nature's daybreak on her You saw one morning waiting in ih.e
face ; cold.
But this same world you are come to, Beside that gate, perhaps. You gather
dearest coz. up
Has done with keeping birthdays, saves A few such cases, and when strong some-
her wreaths times
To hang upon her ruins, — and forgets Will write of factories and of slaves, as
To ryhme the cry with viliich she still if
beats back Your father were a negro, and your son
Those savage, hungry dogs that hunt her A spinner in the mills. All's yours and
down you.
To the empty grave ot Christ. The All, coloured with your blood, or other-
world's hard pressed ;
wise
The sweat of labour in the early curse Just nothing to you. Why, I call you
Has (turning acrid in six thousand years) hard
Become the sweat of torture. Who has To general suffering. Here's the world
time. half blind
An hour's time . . think ! . . to sit up- With intellectual light, half brutahsed
on a bank With civilisation, having caught the
And hear the cymbal tinkle in white plague
hands? In from Tarsus, shrieking east and
silks
When Egypt's slain, I say, let Miriam west .
•

sing !— Along a thousand railroads, mad with

Before . . Where's Moses?' pain
 — ! ! ;

AURORA LEIGH.
And sin too ! . . does one woman of you '
What delicate discernment . . almost
all, thought
(You who weep easily) grow pale to see '
The book does honour to the sex, we
This tiger shake his cage ? does one of — hold.
you '
Among our female authors we make
Stand still
from dancing, stop from room
stringing pearls, '
For this fair writer, and congratulate
And pine and die because of the great '
The country that produces in these
sum times
universal anguish?— Show me a tear
Of '
Such women, competent to . . spell.'
Wet as Cordelia's, in eyes bright as '
Stop there !
'

yours, I —burning through his thread

answered
Because the world is mad You cannot of talk
With a quick flame of emotion, — You
!

count, '

That you should weep for this account, have read

not you ! My soul, if not my book, and argue
You weep for what you know. A red- well
haired child I would not condescend . . we will not
Sick in a fever, if you touch him once. say
Though but so little as with a finger-tip, To such a kind of praise, (a worthless
Will set you weeping; but a million end
sick . . Is praise of all kinds) but to such a use
You could as soon weep for the rule of Of holy art and golden life. I am
three. young.
Or compound
same world
fractions. Therefore, this And peradventure weak you tell me
so
—
Uncomprehended by you, must remain Through being a woman. And, for all i

Uninfluenced by you. Women as you the rest,

are. Take thanks for justice. I would rather ,

Mere women, personal and passionate, dance

You give us doating mothers, and perfect At fairs on tight-rope, till the babies .

wives. drojjped
Sublime Madonnas, and enduring saints ! Their gingerbread for joy, — than shift
\

—
:|

We get no Christ from you, and verily the types i

We shall not get a poet, in my mind.' For tolerable verse, intolerable

To men who act and suffer. Better far
'With which conclusion you conclude '
. . Pursue a frivolous trade by serious
But this— '
means,
That you, Aurora, with the large live Than a sublime art frivolously.'
brow 'You
And steady eyelids, cannot condescend Choose nobler work thaneither, O moist \

To jilay at art, as children play at eyes

swords. And hurrying lips, and heaving heart
To show a pretty spirit, chiefly admired We
are young,
Because true action is impossible. Aurora, you and I. The world look . .

You never can be satisfied with praise round . .

Which men give women when they judge The world, we're come too late, is swol-
a book len hard
Not as mere work, but as mere woman's With perished generations and their,
work. sins :

Expressing the comparative respect The spade grinds horribly

civiliser's
Which means the absolute scorn. 'Oh, On dead men's bones, and cannot tumij
excellent I up soil
' What grace ! what facile turns ! what That's otherwise than fetid. All suc-
fluent sweeps 1 cess
 ' ' ;

AURORA LEIGH. 29

Proves partial 'failure ; all advance im- 'Is it so,'

pl ies I said, '
my cousin? is the wor'd so bad.
What's behind
left ; all triumpli, some- While I hear nothing of it through the
thing crushed trees ?
At tlie chariot-wheels ; all government, The world was always evil, —but so bad?'
some wrong :

And rich men make the poor, who curse '

Dear, my soul is grey
So bad, Aurora.
the rich, With poring over the long sum of ill
Who agonise together, rich and jioor, So much for vice, so much for discontent,
Under and over, in the social spasm So much for the necessities of power,
And crisis of the ages. Here's an age, So much for the connivances of fear,
That makes its own vocation ! here, we Coherent in statistical despairs
have stepped With siich a total of distracted life, . .

Across the bounds of time ! here's To see it down in figures on a page,

nouglit to see. Plain, silent, clear as God sees
. ,

But just the rich man and just Lazarus, through the earth
And both in torments with a mediate ; The sense of all the graves .... that's
gulph. terrible
Though not a hint of Abraham's bosom. For one who is not God, and cannot
_
Who, right
Being man, Aurora, can stand calmly by The wrong he looks on. May I choose
And view these things, and never tease indeed
his soul But vow away my years, my means, my
For some great cure ? physic for No aims,
this grief. Among the helpers, if there's any help
In all the earth and heavens too ? In sucli a social strait? The common
' You
believe blood
In God, for your part?— ay? that He That swings along my veins, is strong
who makes, enough
Can make good things from ill things, To draw me to this duty.'
best from worst. Then I spoke.
As men plant tulips upon dunghills '
I have not stood long on the strand of
when life.
They wish them finest? And these salt waters have had scarcely
'
True. A death-heat is time
The same as life-heat, to be accurate ; To creep so high up as to wet my feet.
And ill all nature is no deatli at all, I cannot judge these tides I shall, per- —
As men account of death, as long as God haps.
Stands witnessing for life perpetually, A woman's always younger than a man
By being just God. That's abstract At equal years, because she is disallowed
trutli, I know. Maturing by the outdoor sun and air.
Philosophy, or sympathy with God : And kept in long-clothes past the age to
But I, I sympathise with man, not God, walk.
I think I was a man for chiefly this; Ah well, I know you men judge other-
And when I stand beside a dying bed, wise !

It's death to me. Observe, it had not — You think a woman ripens as a peach,
much In the cheeks, chiefly. Pass it to me
Consoled the race of mastodons to know now ;

Before they went to fossil, that anon I'm young in age, and younger still, I
Their place would quicken with the ele- think.
phant ; As a woman. Cut a child may say
They were not elephants but mastodons: amen
And I, a man. as men are now and not To a bishop's prayer and feel the way it
As men may be hereafter, feel with men goes;
In the agonising present.' And I, incapable to loose the knot
 ' ' ' — ! ;

Al/J^OI^A LEIGB.

01 social questions, can approve, applaud Ido not contradict my thought of you
August compassion, christian thoughts Which is most reverent, with another
that shoot thought
Beyond the vulgar white of personal Found less so. If your sex is weak for
aims. art,
Accept my reverence. (And I who said so, did but honour you
There he glowed on me By using truth in courtship) it is strong
With all his face and eyes. No other ' For life and duty. Place your fecund
help?' heart
_

Said he — 'no more than so?' In mine, and let us blossom for the world
'What help?' asked, I That wants love's colour in the grey of
'
You'd scorn my help, — as Nature's self, time.
you say, My talk,meanwhile, is arid lo you, ay.
Has scorned to put her music in my Since all my
talk can only set you where
mouth You look down coldly on the arena-
Because a woman's. Do you now turn heaps
round Of headless bodies, shapeless, indistinct
And ask for what a woman cannot give?' The Judgment- Angel scarce would find
his way
'
For what she only can,' I turn and ask. Through such a heap of generalised dis-
He answered, catching up my hands in tress
his, To the individual man with lips and
And dropping on me from his high-eaved eyes
brow Much less Aurora. Ah my sweet, come
The full weight of his soul, I ask for
— ' down.
love. And hand in hand we'll go where yours
And that, she can ; for life in fellowship shall touch
Through bitter duties that, I know she — These victims, one by one ! till one byA
can ;
one.
For wifehood . . will she ? The formless, nameless trunk of every
'
Now,' I said, '
may God man
Be witness 'twixt us two !
' and with the Shall seem to wear a head with hair you \

word, know.
Meseemed floated into a sudden light And every woman catch your mother's;
Above his
I
stature,
—
"am I proved too face
weak To melt you into passion.'
To stand alone, yet strong enough to '
I am a girl,'
bear I answered slowly :
'
you do well to namci
Such leaners on my shoulder? poor to My mother's face. Though far too ear-
think. ly, alas.
Yet richenough to sympathise with God's hand did interpose 'twixt it andJ
thought? me,
Incompetent to sing, as blackbirds can, I know so much
of love, as used lo shine!
Yet competent to love, like him ? In that face and another. Just so much ;

I paused : No more indeed at all. I have not seer

Perhaps I darkened, as the light house So much love since, I pray you pardor
will me.
That turns upon the sea. ' It's always As answers even to make a marriagti
so !
with
Anything does for a wife.' In this cold land of Englar.d. What yoii
'Aurora, dear. love.
And dearly honored' . . he pressed in Is not a woman, Romney, but a cause:
once You want a helpmate, not a mistress, sii
at
With eager utterance,
— 'you translate A wife to help your ends in her ii . .

me lU. cud !
 — ' — ''

AURORA LEIGH.
Your cause is noble, your ends excellent, Stands single in responsible act and
But I, being most unworthy of these and thought.
that, As also in birth and death. Whoever
Do otherwise conceive of love. Fare- says
well.' To a loyal woman, ' Love and work with
me,'
* Farewell, Aurora ? you reject me thus? Will get fair answers if the work and
He said. love,
you were married long ago,
'
Sir, Being good themselves, are good for her
You have a wife already whom you love, — the best
Your social theory. Bless you both, 1 She was born for. Women of a softer
say. mood.
For my part, I am scarcely meek enough Surprised by men when scarcely awake
To b2 the handmaid of a lawful spouse. to life.
Do I look a Hagar, think you ? Will sometimes only hear the first word,
'
So you
jest ! love.
* Nay so, I speak in earnest,' I replied. And catch up with
any kind of work,
it
'
You treat of marriage too much like, at Indifferent, so that dear love go with it:
least, I do not blame such women, though, for
A chief apostle ;
you would bear with love.
you They pick much oakum ; earth's fanatics
A wife . . a sister . . shall we speak it make
out? Too frequently heaven's saints. But ine,
A sister of charity,' your work
'
must it oe
Tiien, Is not the best for, nor your love the—
Indeed f.u-ewell ? And was I so far best.
wrong Nor able to commend the kind of work
In hope and in illusion, when I took For love's sake merely. Ah, you force
The woman to be nobler thaii the man. me, sir.
Yourself the noblest woman, in the — To be over-bold in speaking of myself,
use I too have my vocation. —work to do.
And comprehension of what love is, The heavens and earth have set me,
love, since I changed
That generates the likeness of itself My father's face for theirs,-^and, though
Through all heroic duties ? so far wrong, your world
In saying bluntly, venturing truth on Were twice as wretched as you represent.
love, Most serious work, most necessary work
'Come, 4iuman creature, love and work As any of the economists'. Reform,
with me,' Make trade a Christian possibility.
Instead of Lady, ' thou art wondrous And individual right no general wrong ;

fair, Wipe out earth's furrows of the Thine

' And, where the Graces walk before, the and IMine,
Muse And leave one green for men to play at
*
Vill follow at the lighting of the eyes, bowls ;

'And where the Muse walks, lovers With innings for them all ! . . what then,
need to creep : indeed,
' Turn round and love me, or I die of If mortals are not greater by the head
love.'' •
Than any of their prosperities ? what
then.
With, quiet indignation I broke in. Unless the artist keep up open roads
' You
misconceive the question like a Betwixt the seen and unseen, bursting —
man, through
"Who sees a woman as the complement The best of your conventions with his
Of his sex merely. You forget too much best,
That every creature, female as the male, The sj^eakable, imagmable best
 ; ; —
; —
AURORA LEIGH.
God bids him speak, to prove what Ues I did not love him . . nor he me . . that's
beyond sure . .

Both speech and imagination ? A starved And what 1 said, is unrepented of.
man As truth is always. Yet a princely . .

Exceeds a fat beast; we'll not barter, man !

sir. If hard to me, heroic for himself!

The beautiful for barley. And, even so, — He bears down on me through the slant-
I hold you will not compass your poor ing years.
ends The stronger for the distance. If he
Of barley-feeding and material ease. had loved,
Without a poet's individualism Ay, loved me, with that retributive
To work your universal. It takes a face, . .

soul I might have been a common woman

To move a body : it takes a high-souled now,
man And happier, less known and less left
To move even to a clean-
the masses . . alone
er stye Perhaps a better woman after all,
It takes the ideal, to blow a hair's-breadth With chubby children hanging on my
off neck
The dust of the actual. — Ah, your Four- To keep me low and wise. Ah me, the
iers failed. vines
Because not poets enough to understand That bear such fruit, are proud to stoop
I'hat life develops from within. For — with it.

me, The palm stands upright in a realm of

Perhaps I am not worthy, as you say. sand.
Of work like this perhaps a woman's . .

soul And I, who spoke the truth then, stand

Aspires, and not creates: yet we aspire, upright.
And yet I'll try out your perhapses, sir Still worthy of having spoken out the
And if I fail . . why, burn me up my truth.
straw By being content I spoke it, though itset
Like other false works— I'll not ask for Him there, me here. —O woman's vile
grace. remorse.
Your scorn is better, cousin Romney. I To hanker after a mere name, a show,
Who love my art, could never wish it A supposition, a potential love !

lower Does every man who names love in our

To suit my stature. may love my art.
I lives.
You'll grant that even a woman may love Become a power for that ? is love's true
art, thing
Seeing that to waste true love on any- So much best to us, that what personates
thing love
Is womanly, past question.' Is next best ? A potential love, for-
retain
I sooth !

The very last word which 1 said that I'm not so vile. No, no- he cleaves, I
day. think.
As you the creaking of the door, years This man, this image, . . chiefly for the
past. wrong
Which let upon you r.uch disabling news And shock he gave my life, in finding me
You ever after have been graver. He, Precisely where the devil of my youth
His eyes, the motions in his silent mouth, Had set me, on those mountain-peaks of
Were fiery points on which my words hope
were caught. All glittering with the dawn-dew, a'.l

Transfixed for ever in my memory erect

Flip- his sake, not their own. And yet I And famished for the nof)n, — exclaiming,
know while
 ' ' — ;

AURORA LEIGH. 33

I looked for empire and much tribute, To take me into service as a wife,
'
Com*, No more
than that, indeed.'
I have some worthy work for thee be- No more, no more ?'

low. Pray Heaven,' she answered, that I wa« '

Come, sweep my barns and keep my not mad.

hospitals, I could not mean to tell her to her face
And I will pay thee with a current coin That Romney Leigh had asked me for a
Which men give women.' wife.
As we spoke, the grass And I refused him ?
Was trod in haste beside us, and my '
Did he ask ? ' I said
aunt, '
think he rather stooped to take me up
I

With smile distorted by the sun, face, — For certain uses which he found to do
voice, For something called a wife. He never
As much at issue with the summer-day asked.'
As you brought a candle out of doors.
if
Broke in with, ' Romney, here ! — My 'What stuff!' she answered; 'are they
queens, these girls?
child, entreat
Vour cousin to the house, and have your They must have mantles, stitched with
talk, twenty silks.
Jf girls must talk upon their birthdays. Spread out upon the ground, before
Come.' they'll step
One footstep for the noblest lover born.'
He answered for me calmly, with pale
lips '
But I am born,' I said with firmness,
That seemed to motion for a smile in 'I,
vain. To walk another way than his, dear
* The talk is ended, madam, where we aunt.'
stand.
Your brother's daughter hns dismissed '
You walk, you walk A babe at thir- !

me here ; teen months

And all my
answer can be better said Will walk as well as you,' she cried in
Beneath the trees, than wrong by such a haste,
word '
Without a steadying finger. Why, you
Your house's hospitalities. Farewell.' child,
God help you, you are groping in the
With that he vanished, I could hear dark,
his heel For all this sunlight. You suppose, per-
Ring bluntly in the lane, as down he haps.
leapt That you, sole offspring of an opulent
The short way from us. — Then a meas- man.
ured speech Are rich and free to choose a way to
Withdrew me. '
What means this, Au- walk ?
rora Leigh? You think, and it's a reasonable thought.
My brother's daughter has dismissed my That I beside, being well to do in life.
guests ? Will leave my handful in my niece's
hand
The lion in me felt the keeper's voice, When death shall paralyse these fingers?
Through all its quivering dewlaps I was : Pray,
quelled
Before her,— meekened to the child she
—
Pray, child, albeit, I know you love me
not,
knew: As you loved me, that I may not die
if !

I prayed her pardon, said, '

I had little For when I die and leave you, out you
thought '-go.
To give dismissal to a guest of hers, (Unless I make room for you in my
In letting go a friend of mine who came grave)
 — —
AURORA LEIGH.
Unhoused, unfed, my dear, poor broth- Of colder reasons, and she shall not lose
er's lamb, By love or law from henceforth so he '
—
(Ah heaven,— that pains !)— without a wrote ;

right to crop A generous cousin, was my cousin Vane.

A single blade of grass beneath these Remember how he drew you to his knee
trees, The year you came here, just before he
Or cast a lamb's small shadow on the died,
lawn, And hollowed out his hands to hold your
Unfed, unfolded ! Ah, my brother, cheeks,
here's And wished them redder, — you remem-
The fruit you planted in your foreign ber Vane ?
loves !
And now his son who represents our
Ay, there's the fruit he planted never ! house
look And holds the fiefs and manors in his
Astonished at me with your mother's place.
eyes. To whom reverts my pittance when I
For it was they who set you where you die,
are, (Except a few books and a pair of
An undowered orphan. Child, your shawls)
father's choice The boy is generous like him, and pre-
Of that said mother, disinherited pared
His daughter, his and hers. Men do To carry out his kindest word and
not think thought
Of sons and daughters, when they fall in To you, Aurora. Yes, a fine young
love, man
So much more than of sisters; other- Is Roinney Leigh ; although the sun of
wise youth
He would have paused to ponder what Has shone too straight upon his brain, I
he did. know.
And sh) unk before that clause in the en- And fevered him with dreams of doing
tail good
Excluding offspring by a foreign wife To good-for-nothing people. But wife
(The clause set up a hundred years ago Will put all right, and stroke his temples
By a Leigh who wedded a French danc- cool
ing-girl With healthy touches '
. .

And had his heart danced over in re- I broke in at that.

turn) I could not lift my heavy heart to breathe
But man shrank nothing, never Till then, but then I raised it, and it fell
this
thought
at
In broken words like these No need — '

Of you, Aurora, any more than me to wait.

Your mother must have been a pretty The dream of doing good to . . me, at
thing, least,
For all the coarse Italian blacks and Is ended, without waiting for a wife
browns, To cool the fever for him. We've escap-
To make a good man, which my brother ed
was, That danger . . thank Heaven for it.'
Unchary of the duties to his house ; You,' she cried.
'

But so it fellindeed. Our cousin Vane, '

Have got a fever. What, I talk and
Vane Leigh, the father of this Roinney, talk
wrote An hour long to you, — I instruct you
Directly on your birth, to Italy, how
' I ask your baby daughter for my
son You cannot eat or drink or stand or sit.
In whom the entail now merges by the Or even die, like anv decent wretch
law. In all this unroofed and unfurnished
Betroth her to us out of love, instead world,
 ; :

AURORA LEIGH. 35

Without your cousin, and you still — Girls blush sometimes because they are
maintain alive,
There's room 'twixt hinl and you, for Half wishing they were dead to save the
flirting fans shame.
And running knots in eyebrows ! You The sudden blush devours them, neck
must have and brow ;

A pattern lover sighing on his knee They have drawn too near the fire of life,
You do not count enough a noble heart, like gnats.
Above book-patterns, which this very And flare up bodily, wings and all. What
morn then ?

Unclosed itself in two dear fathers' Who's sorry for a gnat . . or girl?
names I blushed.
To embrace your orphaned life ! fie, fie !
I feel the brand upon my forehead now
But stay, Strike hot, sear deep, as guiltless men
I write a word, and counteract this sin.' may feel
The felon's iron, say, and scorn the
She would have turned to leave me, but mark
I clung. Of what they are not. Most illogical
'
O sweet my father's sister, hear my Irrational nature of our womanhood.
word That blushes one way, feels another
Before you write yours. Cousin Vane way,
did well, And prays, perhaps, another After ! all,
And cousin Romney well, and — I well We cannot be the equal of the male.
too. Who rules his blood a little.
In casting back with all my strength and
will
For although
The good they meant me. O my God, Iblushed indeed, as if I loved the man.
my God !
And her incisive smile, accrediting
God meant me good, too, when he hin- That treason of false witness in my
dered me blush,
From saying yes this morning. If you
' '
Did bow me downward like a swathe of
write grass
A word, it shall be 'no.' I say no, no !
Below level that struck me,
its I attest —
I tie up no upon His altar-horns,
' '
The conscious skies and all their daily
suns,
Quite out of reach of perjury At least !

My soul is not a pauper I can live I think I loved him not . . nor then,
;

At least my soul's life, without alms from nor since . .

men ;
Nor ever. Do we love the schoolmas-
ter.
And if it must be in heaven instead of
earth, Being busy in the woods ? much less,

Let heaven look to it, — I am not afraid.'

The
being poor,
overseer of the parish? Do we
She seized my hands with both hers, keep
strained them fast. Our love to pay out debts with?
And drew her probing and unscrupulous White and cold
eyes I grew next moment. As my blood re-
Right through me, body and heart. Yet, '
coiled
foolish Sweet, From that imputed ignomy, I made
You love this man. I have watched you My heart great with it. Then, at last, I
when he came, spoke.
And when he went, and when we've Spoke words but passionate.
veritable
talked of him Too passionate perhaps ground up . .

I am not old for nothing ; I can tell with sobs

The weather-signs of love you love this — To shapeless endings. She let fall my
man.' hands,
 — ' — — — —
36 AURORA LEIGH.
And took her smile ofif, in sedate dis- By singing with the birds and running
gust, fast
As peradventure she had touched a With June-days, hand in hand •
but once,
snake, for all.

A deadsnake, mind !— and, turning The birds must sing against us, and the
round, replied, sua
*
We'll leave Italian manners, if you Strike down upon us like a friend's
please. sword caught
I think you had an English father, child, By an enemy to slay us, while we read
And ought to find it possible to speak The dear name on the blade which bites
A quiet yes or no,' like English girls.
' ' ' at us !

Without convulsions. In another month That's bitter and convincing after that. :

We'll take another answer no, or . . We seldom doubt that something in the
yes.' large
With that, she left me in the garden- Smooth order of creation, though no
walk. more
Than haply a man's footstep, has gone
I had a father yes, but long ago
!
wrong.
How long it seemed that moment. Oh,
how far. Some tears fell down my cheeks, and
How far and safe, God, dost thou keep then I smiled,
thy saints As those smile who have no face in tlie
When once gone from us ! We may call world
against To smile back to them. I had lost a
The lighted windows of thy fair June- friend
heaven In Romney Leigh ; the thing was sure
Where all the souls are happy, — and not a friend,
one. Who had looked at me most gently now
Not even my father, look from work or and then,
play And spoken of my favourite books . .

To ask, ' Who

is it that cries after us. our books
'
' . .

Below there, in the dusk ?' Yet former- With such a voice Well, voice and !

ly look were now

He turned his face upon jne quick More utterly shut out from me, I felt,
enough. Than even my father's. Romney now
If I said 'father.' Now I might cry \m% turned
loud; To a benefactor, to a generous man.
The little lark reached higher with his Who had tied himself to marry me, . .

song instead
Than I with crying. Oh, alone, alone, Of such a woman, with low timorous lids
Not troubling any in heaven, nor any on He lifted with a sudden word one day.
earth, And left, perhaps, for my sake. Ah,—
I stood there in the garden, and looked self- tied
up By a — male Iphigenia bound
contract,
The deaf blue sky that brings the roses At a Aulis for the winds to change,
fatal
out (But loose him — they'll not change;) he
On such June mornings. well might seem
You who keep account A little cold and dominant in love 1
Of crisis and transition in this life. He had a right to be dogmatical,
Set down the first time Nature says This poor, good Romney. Love, to liim,
plain no '
was made
To some yes in you, and walks over
'
' A simple law-clause. If I married liim,
you Iwould not dare to call my soul my own.
In gorgeous sweeps of scorn. We all be- Which so he had bought and paid for:
gin every thought
 ; ! — ; ;

'AURORA LEIGH. 37

And every heart-beat down there in the My meaning backward like your eastern
bill, books.
Not one found honestly deductible While I am from the west, dear. Read
From any use that pleased him ! He me now
might cut A little plainer. Did you hate me quite
My body into coins to give away But yesterday? I loved you for my part
Among his other paupers ; change my I love you. If I spoke untenderly
sons, This morning, my beloved, pardon it;
While I stood dumb as Griseld, for black And comprehend me that I love you so
babes I set you on the level of my soul.
Or piteous foundlings might unques- ; And overvvashed you with the bitter
tioned set brine
My right hand teaching in the Ragged Of some habitual thoughts. Henceforth,
Schools, my flower.
My left hand washing in the Public Be planted out of reach of any
such.
Baths, And lean the side you please, with all
What time my angel of the Ideal your leaves !

stretched Write woman's verses and dream wo-

Both his to me in vain I could not ! man's dreams ;

claim But let me feel your perfume in my

The poor right of a mouse in a trap, to home.
squeal. To make my sabbath after working-
And take so much as pity from myself. days ;

Bloom out your youth beside me, —be my

wife.'
Farewell, good Romney if I loved you !

even,
I could but ill afford to let you be
I wrote in answer — ' We, Chaldeans, dis-
So generous to me. Farewell, friend, cern
Stillfarther than we read. I know your
since friend
Betwixt us two, forsooth, must be a heart.
word And shut it like the holy book it is,
So heavily overladen. And, since help Reserved for mild-eyed saints to pore
Must come to me from those who love upon
me not. Betwixt their prayers at vespers. Well,
Farewell, all helpers— I must help my- you're right,
I did not surely hate you yesterday
self.
And am alone from henceforth. Then I — And yet I do not love you enough to-
day
stooped.
And lifted the soiled garland from the To wed you, cousin Romney. Take this
earth, word.
And set it on my head as bitterly And let it stop you as a generous man
As when the Spanish monarch crowned Frcrn speaking farther. You may tease,
the bones indeed.
Of his dead love. So be it. I preserve And blow about my feelings, or my
That crown still, —in the drawer there
And
leaves,
here's my aunt will help you with
'twas the first
The it ;— those
east winds.
rest are like Olympian
crowns, And break a stalk, perhaps, tormenting
We run for, till we lose sight of the sun me :

In the dust of the racing chariots !

But certain flowers grow near as deep as
trees.
After that. And, cousin, you'll not move my root,
Before the evening fell, I had a note
Which ran, —
Aurora, sweet Chaldean,
' With
not you.
all your confluent storms. Then
you read let me grow
3« AURORA LEIGH.
Within my wayside hedge, and pass your When not called in, —as if, with leave to
way ! speak.
This flower has never as much to say to They might say something. Nay, the
you very dog
As the antique tomb which said to trav- Would watch me from his sun patch on
ellers, '
Pause, the floor.
'
Siste, viator.' '
Ending thus, I signed. In alternation with the large black fly
Not yet in reach of snapping. So I

The next week passed in silence, so the lived.

next.
And several after : Romney did not A Roman died so smeared with honey,
:

come, teased
Nor my aunt chide me. I lived on and By insects, stared to torture by the
on, noon :

As if my heart were kept beneath a And many patient souls 'neath English
glass; roofs
And everybody stood, all eyes and ears. Have died like Romans. I, in looking
To see and iiear it tick. I could not sit. back.
Nor walk, nor take a book, nor lay it Wish only, now, I had borne the plague
down. of all
Not sew on steadily, nor drop a stitch With meeker spirits than were rife in
And a sigh with it, but I felt her looks Rome.
,Still cleaving to me, like the sucking
asp For, on the sixth week, the dead sea
To Cleopatra's breast, persistently broke up,
Through the intermittent pantings. Be- Dashed suddenly through beneath the
ing observed. heel of Him
When observation is not sympathy. Who stands upon the sea and earth, and
Is just being tortured. If she said a swears
word, Time shall be nevermore. The clock
A thank you,' or an ' if it please you,
'
struck nine
dear,' That morning too— no lark was out of
She meant a commination, or, at best, tune ;

An exorcism against the devildom The hidden farms among the hills breath-
Which plainly held me. So with all the ed straight
house. Their smoke toward the heaven : the
Susannah could not stand and twist my lime-tree scarcely stirred
hair. Beneath the blue weight of the cloudless
Without such glancing at the looking- sky,
glass Though still the July air came floating
To see my face there, that she missed through
the plait. The woodbine at my window, in and
And John,— I never sent my plate for out,
soup. With touches of the out-door country-
Or did not send it, but the foolish Jolm news
Resolved the problem, 'twixt his nap- For a bending forehead. There I sate,
kined thunibs, and wished
Of what was signified by taking soup That_ morning-'truce of God would last
Or choosing mackerel. Neighbors who till eve,

dropped in Or longer. Sleep,' I' thought, ' late

On morning visits, feeling a joint wrong, sleepers,— sleep.
Smiled admonition, sate uneasily. And spare me yet the burden of your
And talked with measured, emphasised eyes.'
reserve,
Of parish news, like doctors to the sick, Then, suddenly, a single ghastly shriek
 — I:' —
AURORA LEIGH.
Tore upwards from the bottom of the The faculty of vision from the roots.
house. As nothing more, worth seeing, remained
Like one who wakens in a grav3 and behind ?
shrieks,
The still house seemed to shriek itself Were those the eyes that watched me,
alive, worried me ?
And shudder through its passages and That dogged me up and down the hours
stairs and days,
With slam of doors and clash of bells. — A beaten, breathless, miserable soul?
sprang, And did I pray, a half hour back, but so,
I stood up in the middle of the room. To escape the burden of those eyes . .

And there confronted at my chamber- those eyes ?

door, *
Sleep late,' I said.
A —
white face, shivering, ineffectual lips. Why now, indeed, they sleep.
God answers sharp and sudden on some
'Come, come,' they tried to utter, and I prayers.
went ;
And thrusts the thing we have prayed for
As if a ghost had drawn me at the point in our face,
Of a fiery finger through the uneven dark, A gauntlet with a gift in't. Every wish
I went with reeling footsteps down the Is like a prayer . . with God.
stair, I had my wish.

Nor asked a question. To read and meditate the thing I would.

There she sate, my aunt, To fashion all my life upon my thought.
Bolt upright in the chair beside her bed, And marry or not marry. Henceforth,
Whose pillow had no dint She had !
none
used no bed Could disapprove me, vex me, hamper
For that night's sleeping . . yet slept me.
well. My God, Full ground-room, in this desert newly
The dumb derision of that grey, peaked made.
face For Babylon or Balbec, when the —
Concluded something grave against the breath.
sun, Now choked with sand, returns for build-
Which filled the chamber with its July ing towns.
burst
When Susan drew the curtains, ignorant The heir came over on the funeral day,
Of who sate open-eyed behind her. And we two cousins met before the dead.
There With two pale faces. Was it death or
She sate it sate
. . we said she . . ' life
yesterday . . That moved us? When the will was
And held a letter with unbroken seal read and done.
As Susan gave it to her hand last night The official guest and witnesses with-
All night she had held it. If its news re- drawn.
ferred We rose up in a silence almost hard.
To d>uchies or to dunghills, not an inch And looked at one another. Then I
She'd budge, 'twas obvious, for such said,
worthless odds, '
Farewell, my cousin.'
Nor, though the stars were suns and But he touched, just touched
overburned My hatstrings tied for going, (at the
Their spheric limitations, swallowing up door
Like wax the azure spaces, could they The carriage stood to take me) and said
force low,
Those open eyes to wink once. What His voice a little unsteady through his
last sight smile,
Had left them blank and flat so, — draw- '
Siste, viator.'
ing out '
Is there time,' I asked,
 : ;

40 AURORA LEIGH.
* In these last days of railroads, to stop No wonder if my eyes sent out some
short sparks.
Like Caesar's chariot (weighing half a '
Pause there ! I thank you. You are
ton) delicate
On the Appian road for morals ?
'
In glosing gifts ; —but I, who share your
'
There is time,' blood,
He answered grave, ' for necessary Am rather made for giving, like your-
self,
words.
Inclusive, trust me, of no epitaph
Than taking, like your pensioners. Fare-
On man or act, cousin. my We have well.'

read
A which gives you all the personal
will,
He stopped me with a gesture of calm
pride.
goods
And funded monies of your aunt.' 'A Leigh,' he said, 'gives largesse and
gives love.
I thank '
But gloses never : if a Leigh could glosc.
Her memory for it. With three hundred He would not do it, moreover, to a
pounds Leigh,
We buy in England even, clear standing- ..
With blood trained up along nine centu-
room ries
To stand and work in. Only two liours To hound and hate a lie from eyes like
since, yours.
I fancied I was poor.' And now we'll make the rest as clear
'
And cousin, still
your aunt
You're richer than you fancy. The will Possessed these monies.'
says,
Three hundred pouttds., a^id any other
' You will make it clear.
My cousin, as the honour of us both,

Of
SUtit
which the said testatrix dies pos-
Or one of us speaks vainly that's not — I.

sessed.
My aunt jiossesed this sum, inherited —
I say she died possessed of other sums.'
From whom, and when ? bring documents,
prove dates.'
'
Dear Romney, need we chronicle the
pence.''
'
Why now indeed you throw your bon-
I'm richer than I thought — that's evi-
net off,
As if you had time left for a logarithm !
dent.
Enough The faith's the want. Dear cousin, give
so.'
me faith,
'
Listen rather. You've to do And you shall walk this road with silken
With business and a cousin,' lie resum- shoes.
ed, As clean as any lady of our house
'
And both, I fear, need patience. Here's Supposed the proudest. Oh, 1 compre-
the fact. hend
The other sum (there is another sum, The whole position from your point of
Unspecified in any will wliich dates sight.
After possession, yet bequeathed as Ioust you from your father's halls and
much lands,
And clearly as those said tiiree hundred And make you poor by getting rich —
pounds) that's law ;

Is thirty thousand. You will have it Considering which, in common circum-

paid stance,
When? where? My duty troubles you You would not scruple to accept from nie
with words.' Some compensation, some sufficiency
Of income — that were justice but alas, ;

He struck the iron when the bar was I love you . . that's mere nature ; you
hot reject
 — ' — —• '

AURORA LEIGH.
My love that's nature also ; and at
. . Of this, dear cousin.'
once, ' Not by heritage.
You cannot, from a suitor disallowed, Thank you : we're getting to the facts a»
A hand thrown back as mine is, into last.
yours Perhaps she played at commerce with a
Receive a doit, a farthing, not foi ihe . . ship
world ! Which came in heavy with Australian
That's woman's etiquette, and obviously gold?
Exceeds the claim of nature, law, and Or touched a lottery with her finger-end,
right. Which tumbled on a sudden into her lap
Unanswerable to all. I grant, you see. Some old Rhine tower or principality?
The case as you conceive it, leave you — Perhaps she had to do witli a marine
room Sub-transatlantic railroad, which pre-pays
To sweep your ample skirts of woman- As well as presupposes? or perhaps
hood ; Some stale ancestral debt was after-paid
While, standing humbly squeezed against By a hundred years, and took her by
the wall, surprise ?

I own myself excluded from being just. You shake your head, my cousin ; I guess
Restrained from paving indubitable ill.'
debts,
Because denied from giving you my '
You need not guess, Aurora, nor de-
soul ride,
That's misfortune — I submit to it
my !
The truth is not afaid of hurting you.
As if, in some more reasonable age, You'll find no cause, in all your scruples,
'Twould not be less inevitable. Enough. why
You'll trust me, cousin, as a gentleman. Your aunt should cavil at a deed of gift
To keep your honour, as you count it, 'J'wixt her and me.'
pure, '
I thought so —ah I a gift.'
Your scruples Gust as if I thought them
wise) '
You naturally thought so,' he resumed.
Safe and inviolate from gifts of mine.' '
A very natural gift.'

_
' A gift, a gifi !

I answered mild but ^.earnest. ' I Her individual life being stranded high
believe Above all want, approaching opulence,
In no one's honour which another keeps, was she to accept a gift
'loo haughty
Nor man's nor woman's. As I keep, Without some ultimate aim ah, ah, I
myself, see, — :

My truth and my religion, I depute A giftintended plainly for her heirs,

No father, though I had one this side And so accepted if accepted ah. . . . .

death. Indeed that might be; I am snared per-

Nor brother, though I had twenty, much haps.
less you, Just so. But, cousin, shall I pardon
Though twice my cousin, and once Rom- you.
ney Leigh, If thus you have caught me with a cruel
To keep my honour pure. You face, to- springe ?
day,
A man who wants instruction, mark me, He answered gently, Need you tremble '

not and pant

A woman who wants protection. As to Like a netted lioness? is't my fault, mine.
a man. That you're a grand wild creature of the
Show manhood, speak out plainly, be woods.
precise And hate the stall built for you? Any
With and dates.
facts
— My aunt inherited way.
This sum, you say Though triply netted, need you glare at
I said she died possessed me?
 : ' ; — — —
42 AURORA LEIGH.
I do not hold the cords of such a net Was found enfolded in the poor dead
You're free from me, Aurora 1
hand:
'
Now may God That spirit of hers had gone beyond the
Deliver me from this strait This gift ! address.
of yours Which could not find her though you
Was tendered when? accepted . . . . wrote it clear.
when ? I asked. ' I know your writing, Romney, recog- —
'
A
month . a fortnight since ?
. S:x nise
weeks ago The open-hearted A, the liberal sweep
It was not tendered. By a word she Of the G. Now listen, let us under- —
dropped stand ;

I know it was not tendered nor received. You will not find that famous deed of
When was it ? bring your dates.' gift.
'
What matters when ? Unless you find it in the letter here,
A half-hour ere she died, or a half-year, Which, not being mine, I give you back.
Secured the gift, maintains the heritage —
Refuse
Inviolable with law. As easy pluck
The golden stars from heaven's embroi-
To take the letter ? well then you and —
dered stole, As and as heiress, open it
writer
To pin them on the grey side of this Together hy your leave. Exactly so :

earth, The words in which the noble offering's

As make you poor again, thank God.' made.
Not poor ' Are nobler still, my cousin ; and, I own.
Nor clean again from henceforth, you The iproudest and most delicate heart
thank God ? alive.
—
Well, sir I ask you I insist at . . Distracted from the measure of the gift
need • . By such a grace in giving, might accept
Vouchsafe the special date, the special Your largesse without thinking any
date.' more
Of the burthen of it, than King Solomon
'
The day before her death-day,' he re- Considered, when he wore his holy ring
plied, Charactered over with the ineffable spell,
'
The gift was in her hands. We'll find How many carats of fine gold made up
that dped, Its money-value. So, Leigh gives to
And certify that date to you.- Leigh—
As one Or rather, might have given, observe !

Who has climbed a mountain-height and for that's

carried up The point we come to. Here's a proof
His own heart climbing, panting in his of gift,
throat But here's no proof, sir, of acceptancy,
With the toil of the ascent, takes breath But rather, disproof Death's black dust,
at last, being blown.
Looks back in triumph so I stood and — Infiltrated
Of this
through every secret fold
sealed letter by a puff of fate.
looked
Dear cousin Romney, we Have reached Dried up for ever the fresh-written ink.
the top Annulled the gift, disutilised the grace,
Of this steep question, and may rest, I And left these fragments.'
think. As I spoke, I tore
But first. —I pray you pardon, that the The paper up and down, and down and
shock "P
And surge of natural feeling and event And crosswise, till it fluttered from my
Had made me oblivious of acquainting hands,
you As lorest-leaves, stripped suddenly and
That this, this letter . . unread, mark, rapt
still sealed, By a whirlwind on Valdamo, drop again,
 - ' '

AURORA LEIGH. 43

Drop slow, and strew tlie melancholy Of cousins, therefore, with the rest. For
ground me,
Before the amazed Iiills . . . why, so, in- Aurora, I've my work : you know my
deed, work ;

I'm writing somewhat large

like a poet, And having missed this year some per-
In the type of the image,— and exagger- sonal hope,
ate Imust beware the rather that I miss
A small thing with a great thing, topping No reasonable duty. While you sing
it !— Your happy pastorals of the meads and
But then I'm thinking how his eyes look- trees.
ed . his, Bethink you that I go to impress and
With what despondent and surprised re- prove
Droach ! On stifled brains and deafened ears, stun-
[ think the tears were in them, as he look- ned deaf.
ed Crushed dull with grief, that nature sings
I think the manly mouth just trembled. itself.
Then And needs no mediate poet, lute or voice,
He broke the silence. To make it vocal. While you ask of
'
I may ask, perhaps. men
Although no stranger . . only Romney Your audience, I may get their leave
Leigh, perhaps
iVhich means still leis than Vincent For hungry orphans to say audibly
Carrington
. .

'
We're hungry, see,' for beaten and —
i'ou plans in going hence, and where you bullied wives
.go. To hold their unweaned babies up in
This cannot be a secret.' sight,
'
All my life
Whom orphanage would better ; and for
all
Isopen to you, cousin. I go hence
To London, to the gathering-place of To speak and claim their portion . . by
souls, no means
To mine
live straight out, vocally, in Of the soil, . . but of the sweat in till-

books; ing it.

Harmoniously for others, if indeed Since this is now-a-days turned privilege.
A woman's soul, like man's, be wide To have only God's curse on us, and not
enough man's.
To carry the whole octave (that's to Such work I have for doing, elbow-
prove) deep
Or, purely by myself.
if I fail, still In social problems,— as you lie your
Pray God be with me, Romney.' rhymes.
To draw my uses to cohere with needs
Ah, poor '
child.
And bring the uneven world back to its
Who fight against the mother's 'tiring
round ;
hand.
Or, failing so much, fill up, bridge at
And choose the headsman's May God !
least
change his world To smoother issues, some abysmal
For your sake, sweet, and make it mild cracks
as heaven.
And fiends of earth, intestine heats have
And juster than I have found you !

made
But I paused. To keep men separate,- using story
'
And you, my cousin? '— shifts
T, he said,—' you ask "" Of hospitals, almshouses, infant schools,
You care to ask ? Well, girls have curi- And other practical stuff of partial good,
ous minds, You lovers of the beautiful and whole,
And fain would know the end of every- Despise by system.
thing. '
/ despise ? The scorn
 : ; ;; — :

AURORA LEIGH.
Is yours, my cousin. Poets become such, And signifies \ multiform of death.
Through scorning nothing. You decry Although we scarcely die apostles, we.
them for And have mislaid the keys of heaven and
The good of beauty sung and taught by earth.
them,
While they respect your practical partial For 'tis not in mere death that men die
good most
As being a part of beauty's self. Adieu !
And, after our first girding of the loins
When God helps all the workers for his In youth's fine linen and fair broidery
world, To run up hill and meet the rising sun.
1'he singers shall have help of Him, not We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool.
last.' While others gird us with the violent
bands
He smiled as men smile when tiiey will Of social figments, feints, and formal-
not speak isms.
Because of something bitter in the Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
thought Our base needs, keeping down our lofty
And still I feel his melancholy eyes thoughts,
Look judgment on me. It is seven years Head downward on the cross-sticks oi
since the world.
I know not if'twas pity or 'twas scorn Yet He can pluck us from that shameful
Has made them so far-reachmg judge : cross.
it ye God, set our feet low and our forehead
Who have had to do with pity more than high.
love. And show us how a man was made to
And scorn than hatred. I am used, walk !

since then.
To other ways, from equal men. But so, Leave the lamp, Susan, and go to bed.
Even so, we let go hands, my cousin The room does very well ; I have to
and I, write
And, in between us, rushed the torrent- Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get
world away
To blanch our faces like divided rocks, Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room.
And bar for ever mutualsight and touch Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters throw !

Except through swirl of spray and all them down

that roar. At once, as I must have them, to be
sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No ex-
THIRD BOOK. cuse.
'
To-day thou girdest up thy loins thy- You choose to bring them, as I choose '.

self.
perhaps
And goest where thou wouklest : pres- To throw them in the fire. Now get to
ently bed.
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, And dream, if possible, I am not cross.
to go
'

Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,
Peter thus, A mere, mere woman, — a mere flaccid
To signify the death which he should die nerve,
When crucified head downwards. A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
If He spoke Turned soft so, —overtasked and over-
To Peter then, He speaks to us the strained
same ;
And overlived in this close London life 1

The word suits many different martyr- And yet I should be stronger.
doms, Never buni
 — ) ; : —
AURORA LEIGH.
Your letters, poor Aurora ! for they stare Since first taught spelling by its grand-
With red seals from the table, saying mother.
each, And yet a revelation in some sort
* Here's something that you know not.' That's hard, my critic Belfair So !

Out alas, what next ?

'Tis scarcely that the world's more good My critic Stokes objects to abstract
and wise thoughts ;

Or even straighter and more conse- ' Call a man,

John, a woman, Joan,' says
quent he,
Since yesterday at this time— yet, again, 'And do not prate so of humanities :'
If but one angel spoke from Ararat, Whereat I call my critic simply Stokes.
I should be very sorry not to hear: My critic Jobson recommends more
So open all the letters let me read. ! mirth
Blanche Ord, the writer in the Lady's '
Because a cheerful genius suits the times.
Fan, And all true poets laugh unquenchably
Requests my judgment on that, after- . . Like Shakspeare and the gods. That's
wards. very hard.
Kate Ward desires the model of m\' The gods may laugh, and Shakspeare ;

cloak. Dante smiled

And signs, ' Elisha to you.' Pringle With such a needy lieart on two pale
Sharpe lips,
Presents his work on 'Social Conduct,' We cry, Weep '
rather, Dante.' Poems
craves
. are
A little
money for his pressing-debts . . Men, if true poems : and who dares ex-
From me, who scarce have money for my claim
needs, At any man's door, '
Here, 'tis under-
Art's fiery chariot which we journey in stood
Being apt to singe our singing-robes to The thunder fell last week and killed a
holes. wife,
Although you ask me for my cloak, Kate And scared a sickly husband — what of
Ward ! that?
Here s Rudgely knows it, — editor and Get up, be merry, shout and clap your
scribe hands.
He's '
forced to marry where his heart is Because a cheerful genius suits the
not. times — ?'
Because the purse lacks where he lost None says so to the man, and why in- —
his heart.' deed
Ah, lost it because no one picked it Should any to the poem ? A ninth
up ! seal
That's really loss ! (and passable impu- The apocalyse drawing to a close.
is
dence ) Ha, — tliis from Vincent Carrington,
My critic Hammond flatters prettily. '
Dear friend,
And wants another volume like the last. I want good counsel. Will you lend me
My critic Belfair wants another book, vvings
Entirely different, which will sell, (and To raise me to the subject, in a sketch
live?) I'll bring to-morrow may I? at eleven? —
A striking book, yet not a startling book, A poet's only born to turn to use ;
The public blames originalities, So save you for the world
! and Car- . .

<You must not pump spring-water una- rington.'

wares (Writ after.) Have you heard of Rom-
'

Upon a gracious public, full of nerves — ney Leigh

Good things, not subtle, new yet ortho- Beyond what's said of him in newspa-
dox, pers,
As easy reading as the dog-eared page His phalansteries there, his siieeches
That's fingered by said public fifty years. here,
 ; — —
AURORA LEIGH.
His pamphlets, pleas, and statements, We all turn stiller than we have ever
everywhere been.
He dropped me, long ago but no one ;

drops Kind Vincent Carrington. I'll let liini

A —
golden apple though indeed one day come.
You hinted that, but jested. Well, at He talks of Florence, — and may say a
least word
You know Lord Howe who sees him . . Of something as it chanced seven years
whom he sees ago,
And yoti see, and I hate to see, — for A hedgehog in the path, or a lame bird.
Howe In those green country walks, in that
Stands high upon the brink of theories. good time,
Observes the swimmers and cries Very ' When certainly I was-So miserable . .

fine,' I seem to have missed a blessing ever

But keeps dry linen equally, unlike — since.
That gallant breaster, Romney. Strange
it is, The music soars within the little lark,
Such sudden madness seizing a young And the lark soars. It is not thus with
man men.
To make earth over again, while I'm — We do not make our places with our
content strains,
To make the pictures. Let me bring Content, while they rise, to remain be-
the sketch. hind.
A tiptoe Danae, overbold and hot Alone on earth instead of so in heaven.
Both arms aflame to meet her wishing —
No matter I bear on my broken tale.
Jove
Halfway, and burn him faster down ; the When Romney Leigh and I had parted
face thus,
And breasts upturned and straining, the I took a chamber up three flights of
loose locks stairs
All glowing with the anticipated gold. Not far from being as steep as some larks
Or here's another on the self-same theme. climb.
She here — fiat upon her prison-floor.
lies And there in a certain house in Kensing-
The long hair swathed about her to the ton,
heel Three years I lived and worked. Get
Like wet sea-weed You dimly see her
. leave to work
through In this world,— 'tis the best vou get at '

The glittering haze of that prodigious all;

_ _

rain. For God, in cursing, gives us better gifts

Half blotted out of nature by a love Than men in benediction. God says,
As heavy as fate. I'll bring you either '
Sweat
sketch. For foreheads ' men say '
crowns ; and
I think,myself, the second indicates so we are crowned,
More passion.' Ay, gashed by some tormenting circle of
Surely. Self is put away, steel
And calm with abdication. She is Jove, Which snaps with a secret spring Get
And no more Danae— greater thus. Per- work ; get work ;

haps Be sure 'tis better than what you work

The painter symbolises unawares to get.
Two states of the recipient artist-soul
One, forward, personal, wanting rever- Serene and unafraid of solitude
ence, I worked the short days out, and watch- —
Because aspiring only. We'll be calm. ed the sun
And know that, when indeed our Joves On lurid morns or monstrous afternoons
come down Like some Druidic idol's fiery brass
 — :

AURORA LEIGH. 47

Witli fixed unflickering outline of dead I some excellent things indifferently,

did
heat, Some bad things excellently. Both were
From which the blood of wretches pent praised,
inside The latter loudest.And by such a time
Seems oozing forth to incarnadine the TliatI myself had set them down as sins
air, Scarce worth the price of sackcloth, week
Push out through fog with his dilated by week
disk, Arrived some letter through the sedulous
And startle the slant roofs and chimney- post,
pots Like these I've read, and yet dissimiliar,
With splashes of fierce colour. Or I With pretty maiden seals, — initials
saw twined
Fog only, the great tawny weltering fog, Of lilies, or a heart marked Emily,
Involve the passive city, strangle it (Convicting Emily of being all heart;)
Alive, and draw it off into the void, Or rarer tokens from young bachelor.s,
Spires, bridges, streets, and squares, as Who wrote from college with the same
if a sponge goosequill.
Had wiped out London, —or as noon and Suppose, they had just been plucked of,
night and a snatch
Had clapped together and utterly struck From Horace, Co'legisse juvat,' set
'

out Upon the first page. Many a letter

The intermediate time, undoing them- signed
selves Or unsigned, showing the writers at
In the act. Your city poets see such eighteen
things Had lived too long, although a muse
Not despicable. Mountains of the should help
south. Their dawn by holding candles, com- —
When, drunk and mad with elementrJ pliments.
wines To smile or sigh at. Such could pass
They rend the seamless mist and stand with me
up bare, ISio more than coins from Moscow cir-
Make fewer singers, haply. No one culate
sings, At Paris. Would ten roubles buy a tag
Descending Sinai on Parnassus-mount
; Of ribbon on the boulevard, worth a
You take a mule to climb and not a muse. sou ?
Except in fable and figure forests chant
: I smiled that all this youth should love
Their anthems to themselves, and leave —
me, sighed
you dumb. That such a love could scarcely raise them
But sit in London at the day's decline, up
And view the city perish in the mist To love what was more worthy than my-
Like Pharaoh's armaments in the deep self;
Red Sea, Then sighed again, again, less gener-
The chariots, horsemen, footmen, ail the ously,
host. To thinkthe verj; love they lavished so,
Sucked down and choked to silence Proved me inferior. The strong loved
then, surprised me not.
By a sudden sense of vision and of tune, And he my cousin Romney
. .
did . .

You feel as conquerors though you did not write.

not fight. I felt the silent finger of his scorn
And you and Israel's other singing-girls, Prick every bubble of my frivolous fame
Ay, Miriam with them, sing the song you As my breath blew it, and resolve it back
choose. To the air it came from. Oh, I justified
The measure he had taken of my height
I worked with patience which means al- The thing was plain— he was not wrong
most power. a Une ;
 — : :

AURORA LEIGH.
I played at art, made thrusts with a toy- Day and night
sword, I worked my rhythmic thought, and fur-
Amused the lads and maidens. rowed up
Came a sigh Both watch and slumber with long lines
Deep, hoarse with resolution, I would — of life
work Which did not suit their season. The
To better ends, or play in earnest. rose fell
'
Heavens, From either cheek, my eyes globed lumi-
1 think I should be almost popular nous
If this went on ! '
—
I ripped my verses Through orbits of blue shadow, and my
up. pulse
And found no blood upon the rapier's Would shudder along the purple-veined
point ; wrist
The heart in them was just an embryo's Like a shot bird. Youth's stern, set face
heart to face
Which never yet had beat, that it should With youth's ideal and when people :

die; came
Just gasps of make-believe galvanic life ;
Ai'.d said, You work too much, you are
'

Mere tones, inorganised to any tune. looking ill,'

Ismiled for pity of them who pitied me,
And yet I felt it in me where it burnt, And thought I should be better soon
Like those hot fire-seeds of creation held perhaps
In Jove's clenched palm before the For those ill looks. Observe—' I.'

worlds were sown, means in youth

But 1 —I was not Juno even my hand Just / . . the conscious and eternal soul
Was shut in weak convulsion, woman's
!

With all its ends, —

and not the outside
ill,
life.

And when I yearned to lose a finger — lo, The parcel-man, the doublet of the flesh,
The nerve revolted, 'Tis the same even The so much liver, lung, integument.
now :
Which make the sum of I hereafter ' '

This hand may never, haply, open large, when

Before the spark is quenched, or the World- talkers talk of doing well or ill.
palm charred, / prosper, if I gain a step, although
To prove the power not else than by the A nail then pierced my foot : although
pain. my brain
Embracing any truth froze paralysed,
It burns, it burnt —my wliole life burnt / prosper. I but change my instrument
with it, I break the spade off, digging deep for
And not sunlight and not torch-
light, gold.
light, flashed And catch the mattock up.
My steps out through the slow and diffi-
cult road. I worked on. on.
I had growndistrustful of too forward Through all the bristling fence of nights
Springs, and days
The season's books in drear significance Which hedges time in from the eterni-
Of morals, dropping round me. Lively ties,
books? I struggled, never stopped to note
. .

The ash has livelier verdure than the the stakes

yew ; Which hurt me in my course. The mid-
And yet the yew's green longer, and night oil
alone Would stink sometimes there came
Found worthy of the holy Christmas some vulgar needs
time. I had to live that therefore I might work,
We'll plant more yews if possible, albeit And, being but poor, I was constrained,
We plant the graveyards with tlicni. for life,

i
 — —
; '

AURORA LEIGH. 49

To work with one hand for the book- The course I took, the work I did. In-
sellers deed
While working with the other for my- The academic law convinced of sin ;

self The critics cried out on the falling off,

And art. You swim with feet as well as Regretting the first manner. But I felt
hands, My heart's life throbbing in my verse to
Or make small way. I apprehended show
this,— It lived, it also —certes incomplete.
In England, no one lives by verse that Disordered with all Adam in the blood.
hves But even its very tumors, warts, and
And, apprehending, I resolved by prose wens.
To make a space to sphere my living Still organised by and implying life.
verse.
I wrote for cyclopaedias, magazines, A lady called upon me on such a day.
And weekly papers, holding up my name She had the low voice of your English
To keep it from the mud. I learnt the dames.
use Unused, it seems, to need rise half a
Of the editorial we '
' in a review. note
As courtly ladies the fine trick of trains, To catch attention, —and their quiet
And swept it grandly through the open mood.
doors As if they lived too high above the earth
As if one could not pass through doors For that to put them out in anything :

at all So gentle, because verily so proud ;

Save so encumbered. I wrote tales be- So wary and afraid of hurting you.
side. By no means that you are not really vile.
Carved many an article on cherry-stones But that they would not touch you with
To suit light readers, —
something in the their foot
lines To push you to your place so self-oos- ;

Revealing, it was said, the mallet-hand, sessed

But that, I'll never vouch for. What Yet gracious and conciliating, it takes
you do An effort in their presence to speak
For bread, will taste of common grain, truth:
not grapes. You know the sort of woman, brilliant —
Although you have a vineyard in Cham- stuff.
pagne, And out of nature. Lady Waldemar.' '

Much
ch less in Nephelococcygia, She said her name quite simply, as if it
As mine was, peradventure. meant
Having bread Not much indeed, but something, — took
For just so many days, just breathing my hands.
room And smiled as if her smile could help
For body and verse, I stood up straight my case.
and worked And dropped her ej'es on me and let
My veritable work. And as the soul them melt.
Which grows within a child makes the '
Is this,' she said, '
the Muse ?
child grow, "
No sybil even,'
Or as the fiery sap, the touch from I answered, since she fails to guess the
'

God, cause
Careering through a tree, dilates the Which taxed you with this visit, madam.*
bark 'Good,'
And roughs with scale and knob, before She said, I value what's
' sincere at
it strikes once ;

The summer foliage out in a green Perhaps if I had found a literal Muse,
flame The visit might have taxed me. As it is.
So life, in deepening with me, deepened You wear vour blue so chiefly in your
all eyes,
 — ' —
; ; ;;

AURORA LEIGH.
My fair Aurora, in a frank good way, '
I guessed as much. I'm ready to be
Itcomforts me entirely for your fame, frank _

As well as for the trouble of ascent In answering also, if you'll question me,
To this Olympus.' Or even with something less. You stand
There, a silver laugh outside.
Ran rippling through her quickened little You artist women, of the common sex ;

breaths You share not with us, and exceed us so

The steep stair somewhat justified. Perhaps by what you're mulcted in, your
_
'
But still hearts
Your ladyship has left me curious why Being starved to make your heads so :

You dared the risk of finding the said run the old
Muse?' Traditions of you. I can therefore
speak.
'
Ah, —keep me, notwithstanding to the Without the natural shame which crea-
tures feel
point,
Like any pedant. Is the blue in eyes When speaking on their level, to their
As awful as in stockings after all, like.
I wonder, that you'd have my business There's many a papist she, would rather
out die
—
Before I breathe exact the epic plunge Than own
on
to her maid she put a ribbon
In spite of gasps? Well, naturally you
think To catch the indifferent eye of such a
I've come here as the lion-hunters go man,
To deserts, to secure you with a trap, Who yet would count adulteries on her
For exhibition in my drawing-rooms beads
On zoologic soirees? Not in the least. At holy Mary's shrine and never blush
Roar softly at me ; I am frivolous, Because the saints are so far off, we lose
I dare say ; I have played at wild-beasts All modesty before them. Thus, to-day.
shows, 'Tis /, love Romney Leigh.'
Like other women of my class, —but '
Forbear,' I cried.
If here's no Muse, still less is any saint
now '

I meet my lion simp]y as Androcles Nor even a friend, that Lady Waldemar
Met his . . when at his mercy.' Should make confessions '
. .

That's unkindly '

said.
So, she bent
Her head, as queens may mock,— then
If no friend, what forbids to make a
friend
lifting up
Her eyelids with real grave queenly look, To join to our confession ere we have
done ?
Which ruled and would not spare, not
I love your cousin. If it seems unwise
even herself,
'
I think you have a cousin : — Romney To say so, it's still foolisher (we're
frank)
Leigh.'
To feel so. My first husband left me
young.
'
You bring a vCford from him V — my eyes
And pretty enough, so please you, and
leapt up
To the very height of hers,
— a word
rich enough.
'
'
To keep my booth in May-fair with the
from hitn ? rest
To happy issues. There are marquises
'
Ibring a word about him, actually. Would serve seven years to call me wife,
But first,' —
she pressed me with her ur- I know
gent eyes— And, after seven, I might consider it,
'
You do not love him, you ? — For there's some comfort in a marqui-
'
You're frank at jeast sate
In putting questions, madam,'
—
I replied. When all's said, — yes, but after the seven
•
I love my cousin cousinly no more.' vears
 — — ' —;

AURORA LEIGH. 51

I, now, teve Romney. You put up your Returned me from the Champs Elysees
lip, just
So like a Leigh 1 so like him !— Pardon A ghost, and sighing like Dido's. I
me, came home
I am well aware I do not derogate Uncured,— convicted rather to myself
I loving Romney Leigh. The name is Of being in love . in
. love That's !

good. coarse you'll say.

The means are excellent but the man ;
;
I'm talking garlic'
the man Coldly I replied.
Heaven help us both,— I am near as mad '
Apologise for atheism, not love !

as he. For me, I do believe in love, and God.

In loving such an one. Iknow my cousin Lady Waldemar :

I know not yet I say as much as this

She slowly wrung :

Her heavy ringlets till they touched her Whoever loves him, let her not excuse
smile. But cleanse herself, that, loving such a
As reasonably sorry for herself;
man.
And thus continued, She may not do it with such unworthy
love
Of a truth, Miss Leigh,
'
He cannot stoop and take it.'
I have not, without struggle come to That is said '

this. Austerely, like a youthful prophetess.

I took a master In the tongue, German Who knits her brows across her pretty
I gamed a little, went to Paris twice eyes
;

But, after all, this love ! you eat of . . . To keep them back from following the
Jove, grey flight
And do as vile a thing as if you ate Of doves between the temple-columns.
Of garlic— which, whatever else you eat. Dear,
Tastes uniformly acrid, till your peach Be kinder with me. Let us two be
Reminds you of your onion I ! Am friends.
coarse ? I'm a mere woman,— the more weak
Well, love's coarse, nature's coarse— ah, periiaps
there's the rub ! Through being so proud ; you're better
We fair fine ladies, who park out our as for him.
lives He's best. Indeed he builds his good-
From common sheep-paths, cannot help ness up
the crows So high, it topples down to the other
From flying over,—we're as natural still side.
As Blowsalinda. Drape us perfectly And makes a sort of badness ; there's
—
In Lyons' velvet, we are not, for that, the worst
Lay-figures, like you we have hearts : I have to say against your cousin's best I
within, And so be mild, Aurora, with my worst.
Warm, live, improvident, indecent For his sake, if not mine.'
hearts, '
I own myself,
As ready for outrageous ends and acts Incredulous of confidence like this
As any distressed sempstress of them all Availing him or you.'
That Romney groans and toils for. We *And I, myself,
catch love Of being worthy of him with any love :
And other fevers, in the vulgar way. In your sense 1 am not so let it pass. —
Love will not be outwitted by our wit, Let that pass too.'
Nor outrun by our equipages :— mine Pass, pass we play police
'
!

Persisted, spite of efforts. All my cards Upon my cousin's life, to indicate

Turned up but Ronmey Leigh ; my Ger- What may or may not pass. I '
cried,
man stopped '
He knows
At germane Wertherisra ; my Paris What's worthy of him; the choice re-
rounds mains with him ;
 ' : —
58 AURORA LEIGH.
And what he chooses, act or wife, I '
Ah, you're moved at last,' she said.
think ' These monsters, set out in the open
I shall not call unworthy, I, for one.' sun,
*
'Tis somewhat rashly said,' she answer- Of course throw monstrous shadows:
ed slow. those who think
*
Now let's talk reason, though we talk Awry, will scarce act straightly. Who
of love. but he?
Your cousin Romney Leigh's a monster : And who but you can wonder ? He has
there, been mad.
The word's out fairly ; let me prove the The whole world knows, since first, a
fact. nominal man.
We'll take, say, that most i^erfect of an- He soured the proctors, tried the gowns-
tiques men's wits.
They call the Genius of the Vatican, With equal scorn of triangles and wine,
Which seems too beauteous to endure it- And took no honours, yet was honour-
self able.
In this mixed world, and fasten it for They'll tell you he lost count of Homer's
once ships
Upon the torso of the Dancing Fawn, In Melbourne's poor-bills, Ashley's fac-
(Who might limp surely, if he did not tory bills.
dance,) Ignored the Aspasia we all dare to praise,
Instead of Buonarroti's mask what : For other women, dear, we could not
then ? name
We show the sort of monster Romney is, Because we're decent. Well, he had
With god-like virtue and heroic aims some right
Subjoined to limping possibilities On his side probably ; men always have.
Of mismade human nature. Grant the Who go absurdly wrong. The living
man boor
Twice godlike, twice heroic,— still he Who brews your ale, exceeds in vital
limps. worth
And here's the point we come to.' Dead Caesar who '
stops bungholes '
in
'
Pardon me, the cask ;
But, Lady Waldemar, the point's the And also, to do good is excellent.
thing For persons of his income, even to
We never come to.' boors
'
Caustic, insolent I sympathise with all such things. But
At need ! I like you '
—(there, she took he
Went mad upon them
my hands) . . madder and
*
And now my lioness, help Androcles, more mad.
For all your roaring. Help me ! for my- From college times to these, — as. going
self down hill.
I would not say so — but for him. He The faster still, the farther you must !

limps know
So certainly, he'll fall into the pit Your Leigh by heart he has sown his ;

A week hence, so I — lose him so — he is black young curls

lost ! With bleaching cares of half a million
For when he's married, he a Leigh,
fairly men
To a girl of doubtful life, undoubtful Already. If you do not starve, or sin.
birth, You're nothing to him. Pay the income-
Starved out in London till her coarse- tax.
grained hands And break your heart upon't he'll . .

Are whiter than her morals, — even you scarce be touched ;

May call his choice unworthy.' But come upon the parish, qualified
'
Married ! lost ! For the parish stocks, and Romney will
He, . . , Romney !
be there
 ' ' ' : :

AURORA LEIGH. 53

Ts call you brother, sister, or perhaps Provided by the Ten Hours' movement
A tenderer name still. Had I any chance there,
With Mister Leigh, who am Lady Wal- I —
stopped we must stop somewhere.
demar, He, meanwhile,
And never committed felony ?
'
Unmoved as the Indian tortoise 'neath
'
You speak the world.
Too bitterly,' I said, 'for the literal Let that noise go on upon his back
all
truth.' He
would not disconcert or throw me
out ;

' The truth is bitter. Here's a man \v\\o 'Twas well to see a woman of my class
looks With such a dawn of conscience. For
For ever on the ground ! you must be the heart.
low ; Made firewood for his sake, and flaming
Or else a pictured ceiling overhead, MP
Good painting thrown away. For me, To his face, — he merely warmed his feet
I've done at it;
What women may, we're somewhat lim- But deigned to let my carriage stop him
ited, short
We modest women, but I've done my In park or street, he leaning on the door —
best. With news of the committee which sate
-^How men are perjured when they last
swear our eyes On pickpockets at suck.'
Have meaning
blue or brown.
in them ! they're just ' You jest — you jest.'

They just can drop their lids a little. '

As martyrs jest, dear, (If you read their
And yet lives)
Mine did more, for I read half Fourier Upon the axe which kills them. When
through, all's done
Proudhon,
Blanc,
Considerant, and Louis By me,
ently
. . for him —you'll ask him pres-
With various other of his socialists ; The colour of my hair— he cannot tell.
And if I had been a fathom less in love, Or answers dark at random, ' '
—while,
Had cured myself with gaping. As it be sure.
was, He's absolute on the figure, five or ten,
T quoted from them prettily enough Of my last subscription. Is it bearable,
Perhaps, to make them sound half ra- And I a woman ?

tional '
Is it reparable,
To a saner man than he whene'er we I'hough / were a man ?
talked,
know That's to prove.
not.
(For which I dodged occasion) learnt — But first,
'

this
I
shameful marriage.'
by heart
His speeches in the Commons and else- 'Ay ?' I cried,

where
'
Then really there's a marriage?
Upon the social question heaped re- ; Yesterday
'

ports I held him fast upon it. '

Mister Leigh,'
Of wicked women and penitentiaries. Said I, shut up a thing,
'
it makes more
On all my tables, with a place for Sue ;
noise.
And gave my name to swell subscription- '
The boIHng town keeps secrets ill ; I've
lists known
Toward keeping up the sun at night ia '
Yours since last week. Forgive my
heaven, knowledge so
And other possible ends. All things I '
You feel I'm not the woman of the
did, world
Except the impossible . . such as wear- '
The world thinks ; you have borne with
iu9L gowns me before
 ; —

54 AURORA LEIGH.
'
And used me in your noble work, our The match up from the doubtful place.
work, At once
'
And now you shall not cast me off He thanked me sighing . . murmured
because to himself
' You're at the difficult point, the Join. '
She'll do it perhaps ; she's noble,'—
'Tis true thanked me, twice.
*
Even I can scarce admit tlie cogency And promised, as my guerdon, to put off
'
Of such a marriage . where you do . His marriage for a month.'
not love, I answered then.
'(Except the class) yet marry and throw '
I understand your drift imperfectly.
your name You wish to lead me to my cousin's be-
* Down to the gutter, for a fire-escape
trothed.
*
To future generations 't is sublime, !
To touch her hand if worthy, and hold
*
A great example, —
a true Genesis
her hand
*
Of the opening social era. But take If feeble, thus to justify his match.
heed So be it then. But how this serve;; your
* This virtuous act must have a patent
ends,
weight, And how thi strange confession o f your
* Or loses half its virtue. Make it tell, love
*

'
Interpret it, and set in the light,
And do not muffle it in a winter cloak
Serves this, I have to learn I cannot —
'
As a vulgar bit of shame,— as if, at best,
* A Leigh had made a misalliance and
blushed She knit her restless forehead. ' Then,
A Howard him moreknow
pressed
should it.' Then, I
Aurora,
despite,
that most radiant morning
*
He would not choose,' I said, that '
name,
even his kin . . You're dull as any London afternoon.
'
Aurora Leigh, even should conceive . . I wanted time,— and gained it, wanted —
his act you.
'
Less sacrifice, more fantasy.' At And gain you You will come and see
!

which the girl

He grew so pale, dear, to the lips I . . In whose most prodigal eyes the lineal
knew, pearl
I had touched him. Do you know her,' ' And pride of all your lofty race of Leighs
he inquired, Is destined to solution. Authorised
'My cousin Aurora?' 'Yes,' I said, By sight, and knowledge, then, you'll
and lied, speak your mind.
(But truly we all know you by your And prove to Romney, in your brilliant
books) way,
And so I offered to come straight to He'll wrong the people and posterity
you, (Say such a thing is bad for me and you,
Explain the subject, justify the cause, And you fail utterly,) by concluding thus
And take you with me to St. Margaret's An execrable marriage. Break it up.
Court —
Disroot it peradventure presently.
To see this miracle, this Marian Erie, We'll plant a better fortune in its place.
This drover's daughter (she's not pretty, Be good to me, Aurora, scorn me less
he swears) For saying the thing I should not. Well
Upon whose finger, exquisitely pricked I know
By a hundred needles, we're to hang the I should not. I have kept, as others
tie have,
•Twixt class and class in England,— thus The iron rule of womanly reserve
indeed In lip and life, till now: I wept a week
By such a presence, yours and mine, to —
Before I came here.' Ending, she was
lift pale ;
 ' ; : ;

AURORA LEIGH. 55

The last words, haughtily said, were •

You take so it'
tremulous. She said ;
'
farewell then. Write your
This palfrey pranced in harness, arched booksin peace,
her neck. As far as may be for some secret stir
And, only by the foam upon the bit. Now obvious to me, — for, most obvious-
You saw she champed against it. 'y' . .

Then I rose. In coming hither I mistook the way.'

* I love love : truth's no cleaner thing Whereat she touched my hand, and bent
than love. her head.
I comprehend a love so fiery hot And floated from me like a silent cloud
Itburns its natural veil of august shame, That leaves the sense of thunder.
And stands sublimely in the nude, as I drew breath
chaste Oppressed in my deliverance. After all
As Medicean Venus. But I know, This woman breaks her social system up
A love that burns through veils will burn For love, so counted the love possible —
through masks
And shrivel up treachery. Wliat, love
—
To such, and lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from
and lie !
their white
—
Nay go to the opera your love's cura- !
And thus she is better haply of her kind,
ble.' Than Romney Leigh, who lives by dia-
'
love and lie ? ' she said
I I lie, for- — '
grams.
sooth ? And crosses out the spontaneities
And beat her taper foot upon the floor, Of all his ind'vidual, personal life,
And smiled against the shoe, You're — '
With formal universals. As if man
hard, Miss Leigh, Were set upon a high stool at a desk
Unversed in current phrases,— Bowling- To keep God's books for Him in red and
greens black,
Of poets are fresher than the world's And feel by millions ! What, if even
highways God
Forgive me that I rashly blew the dust Were chiefly God by living out Himself
Which dmis our hedges even, m your To an individualism of the Infinite,
eyes. Eterne, intense, profuse, — still throwing
And vexed you so much. You find, pro- up
bably. The golden spray of multitudinous
No marriage, rather good
evil in this — worlds
In measure to the proclive weight and
Of innocence, to pastoralise in song :
You'll give the bond your signature, per- rush
haps. Of His inner nature, the spontaneous —
Beneath the lady's mark, indifferent — Still
love
proof and outflow of spontaneous
That Romney chose a wife, could write
life?
her name.
In witnessing he loved her.' Then live, Aurora.
cried
'
Loved !
' I ;
Two hours afterward,
'•
Who tells you that he wants a wife to Within St. Margaret's Court I stood
love' alone,
He gets a horse to use, not love, I think Close-veiled. A sick child, from an ague-
There's work for wives as well, —and af- fit.
gamboled
straw.
ter, Whose wasted right hand
When men are liberal. For myself, you 'gainst his left
err With an old brass button in a blot of
Supposing power m me to break this sun.
match. Jeered weakly at me as I passed across
I could not do it to save Romney's life ; The uneven pavement while a woman, ;

And would not, to save mine.' rouged

 ! ; ' ;

56 AURORA LEIGH.
Upon the angular cheek-bones, kerchief So high lived Romney's bride. I paused
torn, at last
. .

Thin dangling locks, and flat lascivious Before a low door in the roof, and
mouth, knocked
Cursed at a window both ways, in and There came an answer like a hurried
out, dove,
By turns some bed-rid creature and m}'-
'
So soon ? can that be Mister Leigh ? so
soon ?
self,—
* Lie still there, mother liker the dead !
And entered, an ineffable face
as I

dog
Met mine upon the threshold. Oh, not '

you.
You'll be to-morrow. What, we pick Not you ' . the dropping of the
!
. .

our way, voice implied,

Fine madam, with those damnable small '
Then, if not you, for me not any one.'
feet
I looked her in the eyes, and held her
We cover up our face from doing good.
hands.
As if it were our purse ! What brings
And said, ' I am his cousin, — Romney
you here, Leigh's;
My lady is't to find my gentleman
?
And here I'm come to see my cousin
Who visits his tame pigeon in the
too.'
eaves? She touched me with her face and with
Our cholera catch you with its cramps her voice.
and spams. This daughter of the people. Such soft
And tumble up your good clothes, veil flowers.
and all, From such rough roots? the people, un-
And turn your whiteness dead-blue.' I der there,
looked up Can sin so, curse so, look so, smell so . . .

1 think I could have walked through faugh 1

hell that day,

Yet have such daughters ?
And never flinched. ' The dear Christ No wise beautiful
comfort you,' Was Marian Erie. She was not white
] said, '
you must have been most miser- nor brown,
able But could look either, like a mist that
'io be so emptied out
cruel,' — and I
changed
My purse upon the stones when, as I :
According to being shone on more ol
had cast less.
The last charm in the cauldron, the whole The hair, too, ran its opulence of curls
court In doubt 'twixt dark and bright, nor lef/
Went boiling, bubbling up, from all its
you clear
doors To name the colour. Too much hai<
And windows, with a hideous wail of perhaps
laughs (I'll name a fault here) for so small a
And roar of oaths, and blows perhaps . .
head,
I passed droop on that side and
Which seemed to
Too quickly for distinguishing and . .

on this,
pushed As a full- blown rose uneasy with it?
A side-door hanging on a hinge,
little
weight
And plunged into the dark, and groped Though not a wind should trouble it.
and climbed Again,
The long, steep, narrow stair 'twixt brok- The dimple in the cheek had btttef
en rail gone
And mildewed wall that let the plaster With redder, fuller rounds and some- :

drop what large

To startle me in the blackness. Still, The mouth was, though the milky littk
up, up ! teeth
 —
AURORA LEIGH. 57

Dissolved it to so infantine a smile. And give offence by the act of springing

For soon it smiled at me the eyes ; up;
smiled too. And, it we leave tlie damp side of the
But 'twas as it remembering they had wall,
wept. Tlie hoes, of course, are on us.' So she
And knowing they should, some day, said.
weep again. Her father earned his life by random
jobs
We talked. She old me all her story out. Despised by steadier workmen — keeping
swine
Which I'll re-tell witii fuller utterance, On commons, picking hops, or hurrying
As coloured and confirmed in aftertimes on
By others and herself too. Marian
The harvest at wet seasons, or, at need, —
Erie
Assisting the Welsh drovers, when a
Was born upon the ledge of Malvern
drove
Hill
Of startled horses plunged into the mist
To eastward, in a hut built up at night
Below the mountain-road, and sowed the
To evade the landlord's eye, of mud and
wind
turf.
With wandering neighlngs. In between
Still liable, ifonce he looked that way,
the gaps
To being straight levelled, scattered by
Of such irregular work, he drank and
his foot.
slept.
Like any other anthill. Born, I say ;
And cursed his wife because, the pence
God sent her to His world, commissioned
being out.
right.
She could not buy more drink. At
Her human testimonials fully signed,
which she turned
Not —
scant in soul complete in linea-
(The worm) and beat her baby in re-
ments :
venge
But others had to swindle her a place
For her own broken heart. There's not
To wail in when she had come. No a crime
place for her.
Buttakes it's proper change out still in
By man's lawl born an outlaw, was this crime,
babe.
If once rung on the counter of this
Her first cry in our strange and strang- world ;
ling air,
Let sinners look to it.
When cast in spasms out by the shudder-
Yet the outcast child,
womb.
ing
For whom the very mother's face fore-
Was wrong against tlie social code,
went
forced wrong.
The mother's special patience, lived and
What business had the baby to cry
grew ;
there ?
Learnt early to cry low, and walk alone.
With that pathetic vacillating roll
her story and grow passionate.
I tell Of the infant body on tlie uncertain feet,
She, Marian, did nottell it so, but used (The earth being felt unstable ground so
Meek words that made no wonder of soon)
herself At which most women's arms unclose at
For being so sad a creature. Mister ' once
Leigh With irrepressive instinct. Thus, at
Considered truly that such things should three.
change. This poor weaned kid would run off from
Thev ivill^ in heaven — but meantime, on the fold.
the earth, This babe would steal off from the moth-
There's none can like a nettle as a pink. er's chair.
Except himself. We're nettles, some And, creeping through the golden walls
of us, of gnrse,
5S AURORA LEIGH.
Would find some keyhole toward the se- On cherry-blossoms, brightened Marian
crecy too.
Of Heaven's high blue, and, nestling To see another merry whom she loved.
down, peer out — She whispered once (the children side by
Oh, not to catch the angels at their side.
games, With mutual arms entwined about their
She "had never heard of angels,— but to necks)
gaze '
Your mother lets you laugh so? ' ' Ay,'
She knew not why, to see she knew not said Rose,
what, '
She lets me. She was dug into the
A-hungering outward from the barren ground
earth Six years since, I being but a yearling
For something like a joy. She liked, she wean.
said. Such mothers let us play and lose our
To dazzle black her sight against the time.
sky, And never scold nor beat us don't you !

For then, it seemed, some grand blind wish

Love came down. You had one like that? There, Marian
'

And groped her out, and clasped her breaking off

with a kiss ; Looked suddenly in my face. Poor '

She learnt God that way, and was beat Rose,' said she,
for it
'
I heard her laugh last night in Oxford
Whenever she went home, yet came — I'd
Street.
pour out half my blood to stop that
again.
As surely as the trapped hare, getting laugh.
free, Poor Rose, poor Rose 'said Marian. !

Returns to his form. This grand blind She resumed.

Love, she said, It tried her, when she had learnt at
This skyey father and mother both in Sunday-school
one, What God was, what he wanted from us
Instructed her and civilised Iier more all,
1'han even Sunday-school did afterward. And how in choosing sin we vexed the
To which a lady sent lier to learn books. Christ,
And sit upon a long bench in a row To go straight home and hear her father
With other children. Well, she laughed pull
sometimes The name down on us from the thunder
To see them laugh and laugh and maul shelf.
tlieir texts ;
Then drink away his soul into the dark
But ofter she was sorrowful with noise, From seeing judgment. Father, mother,
And wondered if their mothers beat them home.
hard Were God and heaven reversed to her ;

That ever they should laugh so. There the more

was one She knew of Right, the more she guessed
She loved indeed,— Rose Bell, a seven their wrong.
years' child, Her price paid down for knowlegde, was
So pretty and clever, who read syllables to know
When Marian was at letters she would ; The vileness of her kindred: through
laugh her heart.
At nothing— hold your finger up, she Her filial and tormented lieart, hence-
laughed, forth,
Then shook her curls down over eyes They struck their blows at virtue. Oh,
and mouth 'tis hard
To hide her make-mirth from the school- To learn you have a father up in heaven
master. By a gathering certain sense of being,
And Rose's pelting glee, as frank as rain on earth,
 ; — :

AURORA LEIGH. 59

Still worse than orphaned : 'tis too heavy Or half a play of Shakspeare's, torn
a grief. across
The having to thank God for such a joy ! (She had guess the bottom of a page
to
—
By just the top sometimes, as difficult,
As, sitting on the moon, to guess the
And so passed Marian's life from year to
earth !)
year.
Her parents took her with them when
Or else a sheaf of leaves (for that small
Ruth's
they tramped.
Small gleanings) torn out from the heart
Dodged lanes and heaths, frequented of books.
towns and fairs, Elegies and Edens
From Churchyard
And once went farther and saw Man-
Lost,
chester,
From Burns, and Bnnyan, Selkirk, and
And once the sea, that blue end of the
Tom Jones.
world,
'Twas somewhat hard to~keep the things
That fair scroll-finis of a wicked book, distinct,
And twice a prison, back at intervals. And oft the jangling influence jarred the
Returning to the hills. Hills draw like child
heaven. Like looking at a sunset full of grace
And stronger sometimes, holding out Through a pothouse window while the
their hands drunken oaths
To pull you from the vile flats up to Went Oil behind her ; but she weeded
them ; out
And though perhaps these strollers still Her book-leaves, threw away the leaves
strolled back. that hurt,
As sheep do, simply that they knew the (First tore them small, that none should
way, find a word)
They certainly bettered unaware
felt And made a nosegay of the sweet and
Emerging from the social smut of towns good .

To wipe their feet clean on the mountain- To fold within her breast, and pore upon
turf. At broken moments of the noontide
In which long wanderings, Marian lived glare.
and learned, When leave was given her to untie her
Endured and learned. The people on cloak
the roads And rest upon the dusty highway's bank
Would stop and ask her how her eyes From the road's dust. Or oft, the jour-
outgrew ney done.
Her cheeks, and if she meant to lodge Some city friend would lead her by the
the birds hand
In all that hair and then they lifted her,
; To hear a lecture at an Institute :

The miller in his cart, a mile or twain, And thus she had grown, this Marian
The butcher's boy on horseback. Often Erie of ours.
too To no book-learning,— she was ignorant
The pedlar stopped, and tapped her on Of authors,— not in earshot of the things
the head Out-spoken o'er the heads of common
With absolute forefinger, brown and men
ringed. By men who are uncommon. — but with-
And asked if peradventure she could in
read The cadenced hum of such, and capable
And when she answered '
ay,' would toss Of catching from the fringes of the wind
her down Some fragmentary phrases, here and
Some stray odd volume from his heavy there,
pack, Of that fine music,— which, being carried
A Thomson's Seasons, mulcted of the in
Spring, To her soul, had reproduced itself afresh
 ; ;

Co AUROKA LKIGH.
In finer motions of the lips and lids. And other light work done for thrifty
wives.

She speaking of it, if a flower

said, in
Were thrown you
'

out of heaven at inter-

One day, said Marian,
—
— the sun shone
that day
vals,
Her mo.her had been badly beat, and
You'd soon attain to a trick of looking
felt
up,—
She counted me her
Tlie bruises sore about her wretched
And so with her.'
soul,
years.
(That must have been :) she came in
Till / feltold and then she counted
; me suddenly,
Her sorrowful pleasures, till I felt
And snatching in a sort of breathless
ashamed. rage
She told me she was fortunate and calm
Her daughter's headgear comb, let down
On such and such a season sate and ;
the hair
sewed; Upon her like a sudden waterfall
With no one to break up her crystal Then drew her drenched and passive by
thoughts the arm
While rhymes from lovely poems span Outside the hut they lived in. When
around the child
Iheir rniging circles of ecstatic tune. Could clear her blinded face from all tliat
Beneath the moistened finger of the stream
Hour. Of tresses . there, a man stood, with
.

Her parents called her a strange, sickly beasts' eyes

child,
That seemed as they would swallow her
Not good for much, and given to sulk alive
and stare. Complete in body and spirit, hair and
And smile into the hedges and the clouds, all,—
And tremble if one shook her from her With burning stertorous breath that
fit hurt her cheek,
r>y any blow or word even. Out-door He breathed so near. The mother held
jobs her tight.
Went ill with her ; and household quiet Saying hard between her teeth Why — '

work wench, why wench,

She was not born to. Had they kept Ihe squire speaks to you now the —
the north. sq lire's too good ;
They might have had their pennyworth He means to set you up, and comfort
out of her us.
Like other parents, m the factories ; Be mannerly at least.' The child turned
(Vour children work for you, not you for round
them, And looked up piteous in the mother's
Or else they better had been choked with face,
air (Be sure that mother's death-bed will
The first breath drawn ;) but, in this not want
tramping life, Another devil to damn, than such a
Was nothing to be done with such a look)
child '
Oh, mother !
' then, with desperate
But tramp and tramp. And yet she glance to heaven,
knitted hose '
God, free me from my mother,' she
Not ill, and was not dull at needlework shrieked cut,
And all the country people gave her '
These. mothers are too dreadful.' And,
pence witii force
For darning stockings past their natural As passionate as fear, she ore her hands
age. Like lilies from the rocks, from hers and
And patching petticoats from old to new, liis,
 ; — — :

AURORA LEIGH.
And sprang down, bounded headlong And prayed, *no more of that.' A wag-
down the steep, goner
Away from both — away, if possible. Had found her in a ditch beneath the
As far as God, — away They yelled ! at moon.
her. As white as moonshine save tor the ooz-
As famished hounds at a hare. She ing blood.
heard them yell, At he thought her dead but when
first ;

She felt her name hiss after her from the he had wiped
hills, The mouth and heard it sigh, he raised
Like shot from guns. On, on. And her up.
now she had cast And laid her in his waggon in the straw.
The voices off with the uplands. On. And so conveyed her to the distant town
Mad fear To which his business called himself, and
Was running in her feet and killing the left
ground That heap of misery at the hospital.
The white roads curled as if she burnt
them up. She stirred ; — the place seemed new and
The green fields melted, wayside trees strange as death.
fell back The white strait bed, with others strait
To make room for her. Then lier head and white.
grew vexed. Like graves dug side by side at measured
Trees, fields, turned on her and ran after lengths.
her ;
And quiet people walking in and out
She heard the quick pants of the hills With wonderful low voices and soft steps
behind. And apparitional equal care for each,
Their keen air pricked her neck. She Astonished her with order, silence, law
had lost her feet. And when a gentle hand held out a cup,
Could run no more, yet somehow went She took it, as you do at sacrament.
as fast. —
Half awed, half melted, not being used.
The horizon red 'twixt steeples in the indeed.
east To so much love as makes the form of
So sucked her forward, forward, while love
her heart And courtesy of manners. Delicate
Kept swelling, gelling, till it swelled so drinks
big And rare white bread, to which some
It seemed her body when it burst
to fill ; dying eyes
And overflowed the world and swamped Were turned in observation. O my
the light, God,
'
And now I am dead and safe,' thought How sick we must be, ere we make men
Marian Erie just !
She had dropped, she had fainted. I think it frets the saints in heaven to
As the sense returned. see
The night had passed not life's night. — How many desolate creatures on
the
She was 'ware earth
Of heavy tumbling motions, creaking Have learned the simple dues of fellow-
wheels, ship
The driver shouting to the lazy team And social comfort, in a hospital.
That swn.ng their rankling bells against As Marian did. She lay there, stunned,
her brain ; half tranced.
While, through the waggon's coverture And wished, at intervals of growing
and chinks, sense,
The cruel yellow morning pecked at her She might be sicker yet, if sickness
Alive or dead upon the straw inside, made
At which her soul ached back into the The world so marvellous kind, the air so
dark hushed,
 ; —
' — —
AURORA LEIGH.

And all her wake-time quiet as a sleep ;

'
Would pay backbiting neighbours who
For now she understood, (as such things had dared
were) To talk about her as already dead,'
How sickness ended very oft in heaven And one was proud and if her . .
'

Among the unspoken raptures. Yet sweetheart Luke

more sick, Had left her for a ruddier face than

And surelier happy. Then she dropped hers,

her lids, (The gossip would be seen through at a
And, folding up her hands as flowers at glance)
night, Sweet riddance of such sweethearts — let

Would lose no moment of the blessed him hang !

'Twere good to have been as sick for

such an end.'

She lay and seethed in fever many

weeks And while they talked, and Marian felt
But youth was strong and overcame the the worse
test ;
For having missed the worst of all their
Revolted soul and flesh were reconciled wrongs,
And fetched back to the necessary day A visitor was ushered through the wards
And daylight duties. She could creep And paused among the talkers. ' When
about he looked
The long bare rooms, and stare out It was as if he spoke, and when he spoke
drearily He sang perhaps,' said Marian could ;
'

From any narrow window on the street. she tell ?

some one, who had nursed her as a

Till She only knew (so much she had chron-
friend icled.
Said coldly to her, as an enemy, Asseraphs might the making of the sun)
'
She had leave to go next week, bemg That he who came and spake, was
well enough,' Romney Leigh,
While only her heart ached. Go next '
And then, and there, she saw and heard
week,' thought she, him first.'
'
Next week how would it
! be with her And when it was her turn to have the
next week, face
Let out into that terrible street alone Uponher, —
those buzzing pallid lips
all
Among the pushing people, to go . . . .
Being satisfied with comfort when he —
where ?
changed
To Marian, saying, ' And you ? you're
going, where ? '

One day, the last before the dreaded last.

Among the convalescents, like herself She, moveless as a worm beneath a
stone
Prepared to go next morning, she sate
dumb. Which some one's stumbling foot has
heard half absently the women talk, turned aside.
And
How one was famished for her baby's Writhed suddenly, astonished with the
light.
cheeks
*
The little wretch would know her a !
And breaking into sobs cried, '
Where I

year old go ?
And' lively, like his father
!

' one was None asked me till this moment. Can I

say
keen
To get to work, and fill some clamorous Where /go? when it has rot seemed
mouths worth while
;

And one was tender for he dear good- To God himself, who thinks of every
one.
man
Who had missed her sorely,— and one, To think of me, and fix where I shall
querulous . .
go?'
 — ' ' !

AURORA LEIGH. 63

'
So young,' he gently asked her, '
you To feel how tenderly his voice broke
have lost through.
Your father and your mother ? As the ointment-box broke on the Holy
Both,' she said, feet
'
Both lost I my father was burnt up with To let out the rich medicative nard.'
gin
Or ever
sucked milk, and so is lost.
I She told me how he had raised and res-
My mother sold me to a man last month, cued her
And so my mother's lost, 'tis manifest. With reverent pity, as, in touching grief,
And I, who fled from her for miles and He touched the wounds of Christ, and —
miles. made her feel
As if I had caught sight of the fire of hell More self-respecting. Hope, he called,
Through some wild gap, (she was my belief
mother, sir) —
In God, work, worship therefore lei . .

It seems I shall be lost too, presently, us pray

And so we end, all three of us.' And thus, to snatch her soul from athe-
'
Poor child !
ism.
He said, —
with such a pity in his voice. And keep it stainless from her mother's
It soothed her more than her own tears, face.
— ' poor child He sent her to a famous sempstress-
'Tis simple that betrayal by mother's house
love Far off in London, there to work and
Should bring despair of God's too. Yet hope.
be taught
He's better to us than many mothers With that they parted. She kept sight
are. of Heaven,
And children cannot wander beyond But not of Romney. He had good to
reach do
Of the sweep of his white raiment. To others through the days and through
:

Touch and hold the nights

And if you weep still, weep where John She sewed and sewed and sewed. She
was laid drooped sometimes.
While Jesus loved him.' And wondered, while along the tawny
She could say the words, light
She told me, exactly as he uttered them
' She struck the new thread into her
A year back, since in any doubt or
. . needle's eye,
dark How people without mothers on the
They came out like the stars, and shone hills
on her Could choose the town to live in 1— then
With just their comfort. Common she drew
words, perhaps The stitch, and mused how Romney's
The ministers in church might say the face would look
same ;
And if 'twere likely he'd remember her's,
But he, he made the church with what When they too had their meeting after
he spoke, death.
The difference was the miracle," said
she.
FOURTH BOOK.
Then catching up her smile to ravish-
ment. They met still sooner. 'Twas a year
She added quickly, ' I repeat his words. from thence
But not his tones: can any one repeat When Lucy Gresham, the sick sempstress
The music of an organ, out of church? girl,
And when he said poor child,' I shut '
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and
ray eyes quick,
 ! ' !

64 AURORA LEIGH.
And leant her head upon its back to All place and grace were forfeit in the
cough house,
More freely when, the mistress turning Whose mistress would supply the miss-
round, ing hand
The others took occasion to laugh out. With necessary, not inhuman haste.
Gave up at last. Among the workers, And take no blame. But pity, too, had
spoke dues;
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red She could not leave a solitary soul
lips, To founder in the dark, while she sate
* You know the news ? Who's dying, do still

you think ? And lavished stitches on a lady's hem

Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it As if no other work were paramount.
As as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush
little 'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a
not, Nell, missing hand
Thy curls be red enough without thy This moment ; Lucy wants a drink, per-
cheeks ; haps.
And, some day, there'll be found a man Let others miss me ! never miss me,
to dote God!'
On red curls. — Lucy Gresham swooned
last night. So Marian sat by Lucy's bed content
Dropped sudden in the street while going With duty, and was strong, for recom-
home ; pense,
And now the baker saj's, who took her To hold the lamp of human love arm-
up high
And her by her grandmother in bed,
laid To catch the death-strained eyes and
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass comfort them.
the silk. Until the angels, on the luminous side
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within Of death, had got theirs ready. And she
reach. said,
For otherwise they'll starve before they When Lucy thanked her sometimes,
die, called her kind.
That funny pair of bedfellows ! Miss It touched her strangely. Marian Erie '

Bell, called kind !

I'll thank you for the scissors. The old What, Marian, beaten and sold, who
crone could not die
Is paralytic— that's the reason why 'Tis verily good fortune to be kind.
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her Ah, you,' she said, 'who are born to
breath, such a grace.
Which went too quick, we all know. Be sorry for the unlicensed class, the
Marian Erie poor,
Why, Marian Erie, you're not the fool Reduced to think the best good fortune
to cry ? means
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new That others, simply, should be kind to
dress. them.'
You piece of pity !

From sleep to sleep while Lucy slid

Marian rose up straight, away
And, breaking through the talk and So gently, upon a hill.
like a light
through the work, Of which none names the moment that
Went outward, in the face of their sur- it goes
prise, Though all see when 'tis gone, — a man
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to came in
life And stood beside the bed. The old idiot
Or down to death. She knew, by such wretch
an act Screamed feebly, like a baby overlain.
 ' ; '

A URORA LEIGH.
' Sir, sir, you won't mistake me for the (Could any leave the bed-rid wretch
corpse ? alone.
Don't look at ;«(?, sir ! never bury 7ne ! So joyless she was thankless even to
Althougli I lie here I'm as live as'you, God,
Except my legs and arms,— I eat and Much more to you ?) he did not say 'twas
drink. well,
And understand,
tleman
—(that you're the gen- Yet Marian thought he did not take it

Who fits the funerals up. Heaven speed Since day by day he came, and every
you, sir,) day
And certainly I should be livelier still Siie felt within his utterance and liis eyes
If Lucy here . . sir, Lucy is the A closer, tenderer presence of the soul.
corpse . . Until at last he said, 'We shall not
Had worked more properly to buy me part.'
wine :

But Lucy, sir; was always slow at work,

I shan't lose much by Lucy. Marian
On that same day, was Marian's work
complete :
Erie,
She had smoothed the empty bed, and
Speak up and show the gentleman the
swept the floor
corpse.'
Of coffin sawdust, set the chairs anew
The dead had ended gossip in, and
And then a voice said, *
Marian Erie.'
stood
She rose :
In that poor room so cold and
It was the hour for angels — there, stood The door-key in her hand, prepared to
orderly,
hers 1
go
She scarcely marvelled to see Romney As they had, howbeit not their way. He
Leigh.
spoke.
As light November snows to empty
nests,
As grass to graves, as moss to mildewed '
Dear Marian, of one clay God made us
stones, all.
As July suns to ruins, through the rents. And though men push and poke and
As ministering spirits to mourners, paddle in't
through a loss, (As children play at fashioning dirt-pies)
As Heaven itself to men, through pangs And call their fancies by the name of
of death facts.
He came uncalled wherever grief had Assuming difference, lordship, privilege.
come. When all's plain dirt, they come back —
'And so,' said Marian Erie, 'we met to it at last
anew,' The first grave digger proves it with a
And added softly, *
so, we shall not part.' spade,
He was not angry that she had left the And pass all even. Need we wait for
house this.
Wherein he placed her. Well she had — You, Marian, and I, Romney ?
feared it might She, at that.
Have vexed him. Also, when he found Looked blindly in his face, as when one
her set looks
On keeping, though the dead was out of Through driving autumn-rains to find the
sight, sky.
That half dead, half-live body left be- He went on speaking.
hind '
Marian, I being bom
With cankerous hArt and flesh, — which What men call noble, and you, issued
took your best from
And cursed you for the little good it The noble people, — though the t>Tanoous
did. sword
 —
;' ' ; — ' ;

66 AURORA LEIGH.
Which pierced Christ's heart, has cleft Strong leaps of meaning in her sudden
the world in twain eyes
'Twixt class and class, opposing rich to That took the gaps of any imperfect
poor, phrase
Shall we keep parted? Not so. Let Of the unschooled speaker : I have rather
us lean writ
And strain together rather, each to each. The thing I understood so, than the
Compress the red lips of this gaping thing
wound, I heard so. And I cannot render right
As far as two souls can, —ay, lean and Her quick gesticulation, wild yet soft.
league, Self startled from the habitual mood she
I, from my superabundance, — from your used.
want Half sad, half languid,— like dumb crea-
You,—7Joining in a ])rotest 'gainst the tures (now
wron^ A rustling bird, and now a wandering
On both sides !
deer.
All the rest, he held her hand Or squirrel 'gainst the oak-gloom flash-
In speaking, which confused the sense of ing up
much His sidelong burnished head, in just her
Her heart against his words beat out so way
thick, Of savage spontaneity.) that stir
They might as well be written on the Abruptly the green silence of the woods,
dust And make it stranger, holier, more pro-
Where some poor bird, escaping from found ;

hawk's beak, As Nature's general heart confessed itself

Has dropped and beats ts shuddering Of life, and then fell backward on re-

wings, — the lines pose.

Are rubbed — yet 'twas something like
so,
I kissed the lips that ended. — So in-
to this, '

— ' That they two, standing at the two deed

extremes He Marian ?
loves you,
Of social classes, had received one seal, Loves me
'
She looked up !
'

Been dedicate and drawn beyond them- With a child's wonder when you ask
selves him first
To mercy and ministration, he, indeed. — Who made the sun —a puzzled blush,
Through what he knew, and she, through that grew.
what she felt. Then broke off in a rapid radiant smile
He, by man's conscience, she, by wo- Of sure solution. Loves me he loves
'
!

man's
heart. all,—
Relinquishing their several 'vantage And me, of course. He had not a.sked
posts me else
Of wealthy ease and honourable toil. To work with him for ever and be his
To work with God at love. And since wife.'
God
willed
That putting out his hand to touch this Her words reproved me. This perhaps
ark. was love
He found a woman's hand there, he'd To have its hands too full of gifts to
accept give.
The sign too, hold the tender fingers For putting out a hand to take a gift
fast. To love so much, the perfect round of
And say,
!
' My fellow-worker, be my love
wife Includes, in strict conclusion, being
loved
She told the tale with simple, rustic As Eden -dew went up and fell again.
turns, Enough for watering Eden. Obviously
 ; :; : '

AURORA LEIGH. 67

She had not thought about his love at To say to a courtier, '
Pluck that rose
all: for me,
The cataracts of her soul had poured '
It's prettier than the rest.' O Romney
themselves, Leigh !

And risen self-crowned in rainbow would ; I'd rather far be trodden by his foot.
she ask Than lie in a great queen's bosom.'
—
Who crowned her ? it sufficed that she Out of breath
was crowned. She paused.
With women of my class, 'tis otherwise Sweet Marian, do you disavow
'

We haggle for the small change of our The roses with that face ?

gold. She dropt her head.

And so much love accord for so much As if the wind had caught tliat flower of
love, her.
Rialto-prices. Are we
therefore wrong? And bent it in the garden,— then looked
If marriage be a contract, look to it then. up
Contracting parties should be equal, With grave assurance. ' Well, you think
just ;
me bold 1

But if, a simple fealty on one side, But so we all are, when we're praving
—
A mere religion, right to give, is all,
God.
And certain brides of Europe duly ask —
And if I'm bold yet, lai-Vi credit me,
To mount the pile as Indian widows do, That, since I know myself for what I
The spices of their tender youth heaped am.
up. Much fitter for his handmaid than his
wife,
The jewels of their gracious virtues
I'll prove the handmaid and the wife at
worn.
More gems, more glory, —to consume
once,
Serve tenderly, and love obediently.
entire
For a living husband : as the man's
And be a worthier mate, perhaps, than
some
alive,
Not dead, the woman's duty by so
Who are wooed in silk among their
learned books ;
much,
While / shall set myself to read his eyes.
Advanced in England beyond Hindos-
Till such grow plainer to me than the
tan.
French
To wisest ladies. Do you tliink I'll miss
I sate there musing, till she touched my A letter, in the spelling of his mind .'

hand No more than they do when they sit and

With hers, as softly as a strange white write
bird Their flying words with flickering wild-
She feared to startle in touching. ' You fowl tails,
are kind. Nor ever pause to ask how many ts,
But are you, peradventure, vexed at Should that be y or — they know't so
/
heart well
Because your cousin takes me for a wife ? I've seen them writing, when I brought
I know I am not worthy —
nay, in truth, a dress
I'm glad on't, since, for that, he chooses And waited,— floating out their soft white
me. hands
He likes the poor things of the world the On shining paper. But they're hard
best sometimes,
I would not therefore, if I could, be For all those hands we've used out ! —
rich. many nights,
Tt pleasures him to stoop for buttercups And worn the yellow daylight into shreds
f would not be a rose upon the wall Which flapped and shivered down our
A queen might stop at, near the palace- aching eyes
door, Till night appeared more tolerable, just
 ! : — ;

68 A URORA LEIGH.

That pretty ladies might look beautiful, '

Even so, dear Romney. Lady Walde-
Who said at last . .
' You're lazy in that mar
house Has sent me in haste to find a cousin of
' You're slow in sending home the work, mine
—
I count Who shall be.'
'
I've waited near an hour for't.' Pardon '
Lady Waldemar is good.'
me,
I do not blame them, madam, nor mis- '
Here's one, at least, who is good,' I
prize ;
sighed, and touched
They are fair and gracious ; ay, but not Poor Marian's happy head, as, doglike
like you, she
Since none but you has Mr. Leigh's own Most passionately patient, waited on,
blood A-tremble for her turn of greeting words
Both noble and gentle, — and without '
I've sat a full hour with your Marian
it . . well, Erie,
They are fair, I said ; so fair, it scarce And learnt the thing by heart, and, —
seems strange from my heart.
That, flashing out in any looking-glass Am therefore competent to give you
The wonder of their glorious brows and thanks
breasts. For such a cousin.'
They are charmed so, they forget to look '
You accept at last
behind A gift from me, Aurora, without scorn ?

And mark how pale we've grown, we At last I please you?'- How his voice
pitiful was changed I

Remainders of the world. And so ]5er-

haps '
You cannot please a woman against lier

If Mister Leigh had chosen a wife from will,

these. And once you vexed me. Shall we
She might although he's better than
. .
speak of that ?
her best, We'll say, then, you were noble in it all
And dearly she would know it steal . .
And I not ignorant let it pass. And —
a thought now
Which should be all his, an eye-glance You please me, Romney, when you
from his face, please yourself;
To plunge into the mirror opposite So, please you, be fanatical in love,
In search of her own beauty's pearl And I'm well pleased. Ah, cousin at !

while / . .
the old hall.
Ah, dearest lady, serge will outweigh Among the gallery portraits of our
silk Leighs,
For winter-wear when bodies feel a-cold, We shall not find a sweeter signory
And I'll be a true wife to your cousin Than this pure forehead's.'
Leigh.' Not a word he said.
How men are
arrogant Even philan- !
—
I>efore answered he was there himself.
I thropists,
I think he had been standing in the Who try to take a wife up in the way
room They put down a subscription-cheque,
And listened probably to half her talk, if once
Arrested, turned to stone, as white as — She turns and says, '
I will not tax you
stone. •
so,
Will tender sayings make men look so Most charitable sir,'— feel ill at ease,
white ? As though she had wronged them some-
He loves her then profoundly- how. I suppose
'
You are here, We woman should remember what we
Auroin? Here I meet you !
'—We are,
clasped hands. And not throw back an obolus inscribed
 — ; — '

AURORA LEIGH. 69

With Caesar's image, lightly. I resum- You've gnats instead,) love !— love's fool-
ed. paradise
Is out of date, like Adam's.
Set a swan
'
It strikes me, some of those sublime To swim the Trenton, rather than true
Vandykes love
Were not too proud to make good saints To float its fabulous plumage safely
in heaven ; down
And if so, then they're not too proud to- The cataracts of this loud transition-
day time,
To bow down (now the ruffs are off their Wiiose roar, for ever henceforth in my
necks) ears
And own this good, true, noble Marian, Must keep me deaf to music'
yours.
. .
There, I turned
And mine, I'll say ! — For poets (bear And kissed poor Marian, out of discon-
the word) tent.
Half-poets even, are still whole demo- The man had baffled, chafed ine, till I
crats,
flung
Oh, not that we're disloyal to the high, For refuge to the woman, — as, some-
But loyal to the low, and cognisant times.
Of the less scrutable majesties. Forme, Impatient of some crowded room's close
I comprehend your choice— I justify
smell.
Your right in choosing.' You throw a window open and lean out
'
No, no, no,' he sighed. To breathe a long breath in the dewy
With a sort of melancholy impatient night
scorn. And cool your angry forehead. She, at
As some grown man, who never had a least.
child.
Puts by some child who plays at being a
Was not built up as walls are, brick by-
brick ;
man,
— ' You did not, do not, cannot compre-
Each fancy squared, each feeling ranged
by line,
hend
My The very heat of burning youth applied
choice, my ends, my motives, nor
To indurate forms and systems excel-, !
myself:
now — we'll
lent bricks,
No matter you
say.
let it jiass,
A well built wall, — which stops you o\\
the road,
I thank you for your generous cousin-
And, into which, you cannot see an inch
ship
Although you beat your head against it
Which helps this present ; I accept for
—
pshaw !
her
Your favourable thoughts. We're fallen
on days. 'Adieu,' I said, 'for this time, cousina
We two who are not poets, when to wed both;
Requires less mutual love than common And, cousin Romney, pardon me the
love. word,
For two together to bear out at once Be happy !— oh, in some esoteric sense
Upon the loveless many. Work in Of course ! —
I mean no harm in wishing
pairs, _
well.
In galley-couplings or in marriage-rings, Adieu, my Marian —may : she come to
I'he difference lies in the honour, not the me.
work, Dear Romney, and be married from my
And such we're bound to, I and she. house ?

But love, It is not part of your philosophy

(You poets are benighted in this age To keep your bird upon the blackthorn ?

The hour's too late for catching even Ay,'

'

inoth$, K^ answered, '

but it is :
— I take my wife
70 AURORA LEIGH.
Directly from the people,— nnd she And English climate— was't so cold latt
comes year?
As Austria's daughter to imperial Francs, And will the wind change by to-morrow
Betwixt her eagles, blinking not her morn ?
race, Can Guizot stand? is London full? is
From Margaret's Court at garret-height, trade
to meet Compeitive? has Dickens turned his
And wed me at St. James's, nor put off hinge
Her gown of serge for that. The things A pinch upon the fingers of the great?
we do, And are potatoes to grow mythical
We do : we'll wear no mask, as if we Like moly ? will the apple die out too?
blushed.' Which way is the wind to-night ? south-
east ? due east ?

'
Dear Romney, you're the poet,' I re- We talked on fast, while every common
plied, word
But felt my smile too mournful for my Seemed tangled with the thunder at one
word, end.
And turned and went. Ay, masks, I And ready to pull down upon our heads
thought,— beware A terror out of sight. And yet to pause
Of tragic masks we tie before the glass, Were surelier mortal we tore greedily :

Uplifted on the cothurn half a yard

Above the natural stature we would !
All silence, all the innocent breathing-
play points.
Heroic parts to ourselves,— and end, As if, like pale conspirators in haste.
perhaps, We tore up papers where our signatures
As impotently as Athenian wives Imperilled us to an ugly shame or death.
Who shrieked in fits at the Eumenldes.
I cannottell you why it was. 'Tis plain
His foot pursued me down the stair.
We had not loved nor hated : wherefore
'
At least,
dread
You'll suffer me to walk with you beyond To spill gunpowder on ground safe from
These hideous streets, these graves, fire?
where men alive. Perhaps we had lived too closely, to di-
Packed close with earthworms, burr un- verge
consciously So absolutely : leave two clocks, they
About the plague that slew them ; let
say.
me go. Wound up to different hours, upon one
The very women pelt their souls in mud shelf.
At any woman who walks here alone. And slowly, through the interior wheels
How came you here alone? you are — of each,
ignorant.'
The blind mechanic motion sets itself
A-throb to feel out for the mutual time.
We had a strange and melancholy walk :

It was not so with us, indeed. While

The night came drizzling downward in
he
dark rain ;
Struck midnight, I kept striking six at
And, as we walked, the colour of the
dawn.
time,
While he marked judgment, I, redemp-
The act, the presence, my hand upon his
tion-day ;
arm.
my and mine my And such exception to a general law.
His voice in ear, to
Imperious upon inert matter even.
own sense,
Might make each to either, insecure.
Appeared unnatural. We talked modern
A
us,
beckoning mystery or a troubling fear,
books.
And daily papers; Spanish marriage-
schemes, I mind me, when we parted at the door,
 : ; ; — ;

AURORA LEIGH.
How strange his good-night sounded,— As one who had done her work and
like good-niglit shuts her eyes
Beside a deathbed, where the morrow's To rest the better.
sun I, who should have known,
Is sure to come too late for more good P^orereckoned mischief Where we dis- !

days. avow
And all that night I thought . .
'
Good- Being keeper to our brother we're his
night,' said he. Cain.

And so, a month passed. Let nic set it I might have held that poor child to my
down 'neart
At once, —
have been wronc:, I have
I A little longer ! 'twould have hurt me
been wrong. much
We are wrong always when v/e think too To have hastened by its beats the mar-
much riage day,
Of what we think or are ; albeit onr And kept her safe meantime from tamp-
thoughts ering hands
Be verily bitter as self-sacrifice. Or, peradventure, traps. What drew me
We're not less selfish. If we sleep oa back
rocks From telling Romney plainly the de-
Or roses, sleeping past the hour of noon signs
We're lazy. This I write against mv- Of Lady Waldemar, as spoken out
self To me me ? had I any right, ay, right.
. .

I had done a duty in the visit paid With womanly compassion and reserve
To Marian, and was ready otherwise To break the fall of woman's impu-
To give the witness of my presence and dence ?
name To stand by calmly, knowing what I

Whenever she should marry. —Which, I knew.

thought, And hear him call her good 1
Sufficed. I even had cast into the scale Distrust that word.
An overweight of justice toward the '
There is none good save God,' said
match Jesus Christ.
The Lady Waldemar had missed lier If He once, in the tirst creation-week.
tool. Called creatures good, for ever after- —
Had broken it in the lock as beins too ward,
straight The Devil only has done it, and his
For a crooked purpose, while poor Ma- heirs,
rian Erie The knaves who win so, and the fools
Missed nothing in my accents or my who lose ;

acts The word's grown dangerous. In the

I had not been ungenerous on the whole, middle age,
Nor yet untender so. enough. I felt ; I think they called malignant fays and
Tired, overworked this marriage some- : imps
what jarred, Good people. A good neighbour, even
Or, if it did not, all the bridal noise . in this.
— cuts your morning
.

The pricking of the map of life with Is fatal sometimes,

pins. up
In schemes of . .
'
Here we'll go,' and To mince-meat of the very smallest
'
There we'll stay,' talk.
And '
everywhere we'll prosper in our Then helps to sugar her bohea at night
love,' With your reputation. 1 have known
Was scarce my business. Let them good wives,
order it As chaste, or nearly so, as Potiphar's
Who else sliould caie ? 1 threw myself And good, good mothers, who would use
asiae. a child
 —

73 AURORA LEIGH.
To better an intrigue ; good friends, Than such a charming woman w!ien she
beside, loves.
(Very good) who hung succinctlj' round She'll not be thwarted by an obstacle
your neck So trifling as her soul is, . much
. . .

And sucked your breath, as cats are less yours !

fabled to do Is God a consideration ?— she \o\t.%you.

By sleeping infants. And we all liave Not God she will not flinch for Him
;

known indeed:
Good critics who have stamped out She did not for the Marchioness of
poet's hopes; Perth,
Good statesmen who pulled ruin on the When wanting tickets for the fancy-ball.
state ; She loves you, sir, with passion, to luna-
Good patriots who for a theory risked a cy ;

cause ; She loves you like her diamonds . . al-

Good kings who disembowelled for a most.
tax^; Well,
Good popes who brought all good to A month passed so, and then the notice
jeopardy ; came ;

Good Christians who sate still in easy On such a day the marriage at the
chairs church.
And damned the general world for stand- I was not backward.
ing up.— Half St. Giles in frieze
Now may the good God pardon all good Was bidden to meet St. James in cloth
men ! of gold.
And, after contract at the altar, pass
How bitterly I speak,— how certainly To eat a marriage feast on Hampstead
The innocent white milk in us is turned. Heath.
By much persistent shining of tlie sun ! Of course the people came in uncom-
Shake up the sweetest in us long enough pelled,
With men, it drops to foolish curd, too Lame, blind, and worse — sick, sorrowful,
sour and worse,
To feed the most untender of Christ's The humours of the peccant social
lambs. wound
All pressed out, poured down upon Pim-
I should have thought . . a woman of lico.
the world Exasperating the unaccustomed air
Like her I'm meaning, — centre to her- With hideous interfusion you'd sup- :

self. pose
Who has wheeled on her own pivot half a A finished generation, dead of plague.
life Swept outward from their graves into
In isolated self-love and self-will, the sun.
As a windmill seen at distance radiating The moil of death upon them. Wliat a
Its delicate white vans against the sky, sight !

So soft and soundless, simply beautiful, A holiday of miserable men

Seen nearer what a roar and tear it
. . Is sadder than a burial-day of kings.
makes,
How grinds and bruises !
it if she . . They clogged the streets, they oozed into
loves at last the church
Her love's a e-adjustment of self-love, In a dark slow stream like blood. l"o
No more ; a need felt of another's use see that sight.
To her one advantage, as the mill wants — The noble ladies stood up in their pews,
grain, Some pale for fear, a few as red for hate.
The fire wants fuel, the very wolf wants Some simply curious, some just insolent.
prey. And some in wondering scorn, — What '

And none of these is more unscrupulous ne.\t? what next? *

 :

AURORA LEIGH.
These crushed their delicate rose-lips In fiery swirls of slime,— such strangled
from the smile fronts,
That misbecame ihem in a holy place, Such obdurate jaws were thrown up
^Vith broidered hems of perfumed hand- constantly
kerchiefs : To twit you with your race, corrupt
Those passed the salts with confidence your blood,
of eyes And grind to devlish colours all your
And simultaneous shiver of moire silk ; dreams
While the aisles, alive and black
all Henceforth, though, haply, you
. .

with heads, should drop asleep

Crawled slowly toward the altar from By clink of silver waters, in a muse
the street, Oil Raffael's mild Madonna of the Bird.
As bruised snakes crawl and hiss out of
a hole I've waked and slept through many
With shuddering involution, swaying nights and days
slow Since then, —
but still that day will catch
From right to left, and then from left my breath
to right. Like a niglUmare. There are fatal days,
In pants and pauses. What an ugly indeed.
crest In which the fibrous years have taken
Of faces rose upon you everywhere root
From that crammed mass you did not !
So deeply, that they quiver to their tops
usualljr Whene'ie you stir the dust of such a day.
See faces like them in the open day
Tiiey hide in cellars, not to make you My cousin met me with his eyes and
mad hand,
As Romney Leigh is. — Faces — O !
my And then, with just a word, that . .

God, Marian Erie

'

We those, faces ? men's and wo-

call M'as coming with her bridesmaids
men's . ay, . presently,'
And children's ;— babies, hanging like a Made haste to place me by tl:e altar-
rag stair,
Forgotten on their mother's neck, —poor Where he and other noble gentlemen
mouths. And high-born ladies, waited for the
Wiped clean of mother's milk by moth- bride.
er' s blow
Before they are taught her cursing. We waited. It was early : there was
Faces ? phew, . . time
We'll call them vices festering to des- For greeting, and the morning's com-
pairs, pliment ;

Or sorrows petrifying to vices : not And gradually a ripple of women's talk

A finger- touch of God left whole on Arose and fell, and tossed about a spray
them ;
Of English js, soft as a silent hush.
All ruined, lost— the countenance worn And, notwithstanding, quite as audible
out As louder phrases thrown out by the men.
As the garment, the v/ill dissolute as the — 'Yes, we need to wait iu
really, if
act; church.
The passions loose and drangling in the We need to talk there.' — 'She? 'Tis
dirt Lady Ayr,
To trip the foot up at the first free In blue— not purple that's the dow-
I

step
Those, faces
!

! 'twas as if you had stirred — She looks as young.' — She

'
ager.'
as ' flirts
up hell young, you mean.
To heave its lowest dreg-fiends upper- Why if you had seen her upon Thursday

most night,
 ' ' — ;! : '

74 AURORA LEIGH.
You'd call Miss Norris modest.' Yotc
— ' (You see her; sitting close to Romney
again ! Leigh ;

I waltzed with j'ou three hours back. How beautiful she looks, a little flush-
Up at six, ed !)

Up still at ten : scarce time to change Has taken up the and methodised
girl,
one's shoes. Leigh's folly. Should 1 have come here,
I feel as white an^ sulky as a ghost, you suppose,
So pray don't speak to me, Lord Belch- Except she'd asked me?'—' She'd liave
er.' No, — ' served him more
I'll look at you instead, and it's enough By marrying him herself.'
While you have that face.'— In church, '
'
Ah — there she comes,
my lord fie, fie !' The bride, at last !

— 'Adair, you stayed for the

!

Division ?' Indeed, no.

Past eleven.
'

She puts ofif iier patched petticoat to-day

By one.' — The devil ' it is ! I'm sorry And puts on May-fair manners, so be-
gins
And
for't.
if I had not promised Mistress By setting us to wait.' Yes, yes, this — '

Grove Leigh
— '
' .

You might have kept your word

.

to Was always odd ; it's in the blood, I

Liverpool.' think ;

'
Constituents must remember, after all. His father's uncle's cousin's second son
We're mortal.' remind them of it.' — We ' Was, was . . you understand me— and
—'Hark, for him,
The bride comes Here she comes, ia ! He's stark !— has turned quite lunatic
a stream of milk !
upon
— ' There ? Dear, you are asleep still This modern question of the poor— the
don't you know poor
The five Miss Granvilles? always dress- An excellent subject when you're mode-
ed in wiiite rate ;

To show they're ready to be married.' You've seen Prince Albert's model lodg-
'
Lower ! ing-house ?

The aunt is at your elbow.'—' Lady Does iionour to his royal highness.
Maud, Good !

Did Lady Waldemar tell you she had But would he stop his carriage in Cheap-
seen side
This of Leigh's ? '—
girl ' No,— wait To common
shake a fellow by the fist
'twas Mistress Brookes, Whose name was . . Shakspeare? no.
Who told me Lady Waldemar told We draw a line,
her — And if we stand not by our order, we
No, 'twasn't Mrs. Brookes.' — ' She's In England, we fall headlong. Here's a
pretty ?'—' Who? sight,—
Mrs. Brookes? Lady Waldemar?' A hideous sight, a most indecent sight
'
How
hot ! My wife would come, sir, or 1 had kept
Pray the law to-day we're not to
is't her back.
breathe ? By heaven, sir, when poor Damiens'
You're treading on my shawl— I thank trunk and limbs
you, sir Were torn by horses, women of the
— ' Tiiey say the bride's a mere child, who court
can't read, Stood by and stared, exactly as ro-da-y '
But knows the things she shouldn't, with On tliis dismembering of society,
wide-awake With pretty troubled faces.'
Great eyes. I'd go through fire to look '
Now, at last.
at her.' She comes now.'
— ' You do, I think.'— 'And Lady Walde- '
Where? whosees' you push me, sir,
mar Beyond the point of what is mannerly.
 :! ' ' ;

AURORA LEIGH. 75

You're standing, madanri, on my second Let me draw Lord Howe ;

flounce A born aristocract, bred radical.

I do beseech you.' And educated socialist, who still
'
No— it's not the bride. Goes floating, on traditions of his kind,
Half-past eleven. How late. The Across the theoretic flood from France,
bridegroom, mark. Though, like a drenched Noah on a rot-
Gets anxious and goes out.' ten deck.
Scarce safer for his place there. He, at
'
And as I said,
least,
These Leighs ! our best blood running in
Will never land on Ararat, he knows,
the rut To recommence the world on the new
It's something awful. We had pardoned plan :

him Indeed, he thinks, said world had better

A simple misalliance, got up aside end ;
For a pair of sky-blue eyes our House ;
He sympathises rather with the fish
of Lords Outside, than with the drowned paired
.Has winked such things, and we've
at beasts within
all been young.
Who cannot couple again or multiply :
But here's an inter-marriage reasoned And that's the sort ofNoah he is, Lord
out, Howe.
A contract (carried boldly to the light He never could be anything complete,
To challenge observation, pioneer Except a loyal, upright gentleman,
Good acts by a great example) 'twixt the A liberal landlord, graceful diner-out,
extremes And entertainer more than hospitable.
Of martyrised society, — on the left Whom authors dine with and forget the
'4;iie well-born,— on the right the merest hock
mob, Whatever he believes, and it is much,
To treat as equals !— 'tis anarchical !
now here and
But no-wise certain . .

it means more than it says— 'tis damna- now there.

ble.
He has sympathies beyond his creed
still
Why, sir, v/o can't have even our coffee
Diverting him from action. In the
good, House,
Unless we strain it.' No party counts upon him, while for all
Here, Miss Leigh
' !

His speeches have a noticeable weight.

'
Lord Howe, Men like his books too, (he has written
You're Romney's friend. What's all books)
?
this waiting for beside a bishop's
Which, safe to lie
chair.
'
I cannot tell. *The bride has lost her At times outreach themselves with jets
head of fire
(And, way perhaps !) to prove her sym- At which the foremost of the progress-
pathy ists
With the bridegroom,' May warm audacious hands in passing
'
What, —you also disapprove !'
by-
— Of stature over-tall, lounging for ease
'
Oh, / approve of nothing in the world,' Light hair, that seems to carry a wind
He answered; 'not of you, still less of in it.

me. And eyes that, when they look on you,

Nor even of Romney— though he's will lean
worth us both. Their whole weight half in indolence
We're all gone wrong. The tune in us and half
is lost In wishing you unmitigated good.
And wliistHng down back alleys to the Until you know not ifto flincli from him
moon, Or thank him.— 'Tis Lord Howe.
Will never catch it. We're all gone wrong,'
•
 , ; ! —— ! ! '

76 AURORA LEIGH.
Said he, and Romney, that dear friend
' A simple contract, he, upon his side,—
of ours, And Regan with her sister Goneril
Is no-wise right. There's one true And all the dappled courtiers and court-
thing on earth ;
fools,
That's love He takes it np, and
! On their side. Not that any of these
dresses it, would say
And acts a play with it, as Hamlet did, They're sorry, neither. What is done,
'I'o show what cruel uncles we have is done,
been And violence is now turned privilege.
And how we should be uneasy in our As cream turns cheese, if buried long
minds enough.
While he, Prince Hamlet, weds a pretty Wliat could such lovely ladies have to do
maid With the old man there, in those ill-

(Who keeps us too long waiting, we'll odorous rags.

confess) Except to keep the wind-side of him ?

By symbol, to instruct us formally Lear

To fill the ditches up 'twixt class and Is flat and quiet, as a decent grave ;
class. He does not curse his daughters in the
And live together in phalansteries. least.
What then ?— he's mad, our Hamlet Be these his daughters? Lear is think-
clap his play, ing of .
•
.
.

And bind him.' His porridge chiefly is it getting cold . .

'
Ah, Lord Howe, this spectacle At Hampstead ? will the ale be served in
Pulls stronger at us than the Dane's. pots ?

See there Poor Lear, poor daughters ! Bravo,

The crammed aisles heave and strain and Romney's play !

steam with life

'
Dear Heaven, what life !
A murmur and a movement drew
'
Why, yes, a poet sees ; — around ;
Which makes liim different from a com- A naked whisper touched us. Some-
mon man. thing wrong
7, too, see somewhat, though I cannot What's wrong? The black crowd, as an
sing ;
overstrained
I should have been a poet, only that Cord, quivered in vibration, and I
My mother took, fright at the ugly saw . .

world. Was that his face I saw? . . his . .

And bore me tongue-tied. If you'll grant Romney Leigh's . .

me now Which tossed a sudden horror like a

That Romney gives us a fine actor-piece sponge
To make us merry on his marriage- Into all eyes,— while himself stood white
morn, upon
The fable's worse than Hamlet's, I'll
The topmost altar-stair, and tried to
concede. speak,
The terrible people, old and pour and
blind.
And failed, and lifted higher above his
and head
Their eyes eat out with i)Iague
poverty
A letter, . . as a man wlio drowns and
gasps.
From seeing beautiful and clieerful sights.
We'll liken to a brutaiised King Lear,
Led out, —
by no means to clear scores '
My brothers, bear with me ! I am
with wrongs very weak.
His wrongs are so far back, he has . . I meant but only good. Perhaps I
forgot meant
All's past like youth ; but just to witness Too proudly, — and God snaiched the cir-
here cumstance
 ' ' —
AURORA LEIGH. 77

And changed it therefoie. There's no Than make my dinner on his beef and
marriage— none. beer.'
She leaves me,— she departs, — she dis- At which a cry rose up — ' We'll have
appears, our rights.
I lose her.Yet I never forced her 'ay,' We'll have the girl, the girl ! Your la-
To have her no so cast into my teeth, ' '
dies there
In manner of an accusation, thus. Are married safely and smoothly every
My friends, you are dismissed. Go, eat day,
and drink And she shall not drop through into a
According to the programme, and fare-
!'
— trap
well Because she's poor and ot the people :

shame !

He ended. Tliere was silence in the We'll have no tricks played off by gentle-
church ; folks ;

We lieard a baby sucking in its sleep We'll see her righted.'

At the farthest end of the aisle. Then 'I'hrough the rage and roar
spoke a man, I heard the broken words wiiich Romney
' Now, look to it, coves, that all the beef flung
and drink Among the turbulent masses, from the
Be not filched from us like the other ground
fun He held still with his masterful pale
;

For beer's spilt easier than a woman's face —

.
'°st ! As huntsmen throw the ration to the
This gentry not honest witli the jioor pack.
They bring us up,
is
to trick us.'
— ' Go
;

it, Who, falling on

headlong, dog on dog
it

Jim, In heaps of fury, rend it, swallow it up

A woman screamed back, — ' I'm a tender With yelling hound-jaws, his indignant —
soul, words,
Inever banged a child at two years old His suppliant words, his most pathetic
And drew blood from him, but I sobbed words.
for it Whereof I caught the meaning here and
Next moment, and I've had a plague — there
of seven. By his gestine . . torn in morsels, yelled
I'm tender; I've no stomach even for across,
beef. And so devoured. From end to end,
Until I know about the girl that's lost, the church
That's killed, mayhap. I did misdoubt, Rocked round us like the sea in storm,
at first. and then
The fine lord meant no [;ood by her or Broke up like the earth in earthquake.
us. Men cried out,
He, maybe, got the upper hand of her '
Police '
— and women stood and shrieked
By holding up a wedding-ring, and for God,
then . . Or dropt and swooned; or, like a herd
A choking finger on her throat last of deer,
night. (For whom the black woods suddenly
And just a clever tale to keep us still. grow alive,
As she is, poor lost innocent. Disap- ' Unleashing their wild shadows down the
pear !
wind
Who ever disappears except a ghost ? To hunt the creatures into corners, bade
And who believes a story of a ghost ? And forward) madly fled, .or blindly fell.
I ask you, —
would a girl go off, instead Trod screeching underneath the feet of
Of staying to be married? a fine tale ! those
A wicked man, I say, a wicked man ! Who fled and screeched.
For my part I would rather starve on The last sight left to nu;
gin Was Rnmney's terrible calm faco above
 — ;

73
AURORA LEIGH.
The tumult —the !
last sound was ' Pull Who is not therefore vexed: so bear
him down ! with it . .

Strike— kill him !

' Stretching my un- And me. I know I'm foolish, weak, and
reasoning arms, vain ;

As men in dreams, who vainly interpose Yet most of all I'm angry with myself
'Twixt gods and their undoing, with a For losing your last footstep on the stair
cry The last
day
time of your coming, —yester-
I struggled to precipitate myself !

Head-foremost, to the rescue of my soul The very time I lost step of yours,
first

In that white face, .till some one . (Us sweetness comes the next to what
caught me back, you speak)
And so the world went out, I felt no — But yesterday sobs took mc by the
more. throat
And cut me off from music.
What followed, was told after by Lord '
Mister Leigh,
Howe, You'll set me down as wrong in many
Who bore me senseless from the strang- things.
ling crowd You've praised me, sir, for truth, — and
In dunch and street, and then returned now you'll learn
alone Ihad not courage to be rightly true.
To see the tumult quelled. The men of Ionce began to tell you how she came.
law The woman and you stared upon the
. .

Had fallen as thunder on a roaring fire. floor

And made all silent,— while the people's In one of your fixed thoughts . . which
smoke put me out
Passed eddying slowly from the emptied For that day. After, some one spoke
aisles. of me,
So wisely, and of you, so tenderly,
which ragged Persuading me to silence for your sake . .
Here's Marian's letter, ;i
Well, well ! it seems this moment I was
child
wrong
Brought running, just as Romney at the
In keeping back from telling you the
porch
truth
Looked out expectant of the bride. He :

There might be truth betwixt us two, at

sent
least,
The letter to me by his friend Lord
If nothing else. And yet 'twas danger-
Howe ous.
Some two hours after, folded in a sheet
Suppose a real angel came from heaven
On which his well known hand had left
To live with men and women he'd go !

a word.
mad.
Here's Marian's letter.
Ifno considerate hand should tie a blind
'
Noble friend, dear saint, Across his piercing eyes. 'Tis thus
I^e patient with me. Never think me with you:
vile. You see us too much in your heavenly
Who might to-morrow morning be your light
wife Ialways thought so, angel,— and indeed
But that I loved you more than such a There's danger that you beat yourself to
name. death
Farewell, my Romney. Let me write it
Against the edges of this alien world,
once, In some divine and fluttering pitv.
My Romney. ' ^'^^:
'
'Tfs so pretty a coupled word, It would be dreadful for a friend of
I have no heart to pluck it with a blot. yours,
We say my '
God sometimes, upon ' our To see all England thrust you out of
knees, doors
 — ; ! ! ; :: :

AURORA LEIGH. 79

And mock you from the windows. You I think you'll find me sooner in nir
might say, grave ;

Or think (that's worse,) 'There's some And that's my choice, observe. For
one in the house what remains,
I miss and love still.' Dreadful An over-generous friend will care for nie
Very kind, '
And keep me happy happier . . . .

I pray you mark, was Lady Waldemar. 'There's a blot !

She came to see me nine times, rather This ink runs thick . . we light girls
ten lightly weep . .

So beautiful, she hurts one like the day And keep me happier . . was the thing
Let suddenly on sick eyes. to say.
'
Most kind of all. Than as your wife I could be I — O, my
Your cousin ah, most like you ! — 1 Ere star.
you came My saint, my soul ! for surely you're my
She kissed me mouth to mouth: I felt soul.
her soul Through whom God touched me ! I am
Dip through her serious lips in holy not so lost
fire. Icannot thank you for the good 30U did,
God help me, but it made me arrogant The tears you stopped, which fell down
I almost told her that you would not bitterly.
lose Like these— the times you made me weep
By taking me to wife : though ever since for joy
I've pondered much a certain thing she At hoping I should learn lo write your
asked . . notes
* He
loves you, Marian?' in a sort . . And save the tiring cf your eyes, r.t

of mild night ;

Derisive sadnesss as a mother asks . . And most for that sweet thrice you kiss-
Her babe, You'll touch that star, vou
'
ed my lips
think?' And said Dear Marian
'
'

Farewell ' '

'Twould be hard to read,
I know I never touched it. This letter, for a reader half as learn'd.
This is worst '
But you'll be sure to master it in spite
Babes grow, and lose the hope of things Of ups and downs. My hand shakes, I
above am blind,
A silver threepence sets them leaping I'm poor at writing at the best, — and yet
high— I tried to make ^3 the my way you
But no more stars ! mark that. showed.
'
I've writ all night. —
Farewell Christ love you. — Say '
Poor
Yet told you nothing. God, if I could Marian' now.'
die.
And break off innocent
let this letter Poor Marian ! — wanton Marian !
— was
Just here !for your sake But no — . . it so,
Here's the last '
Or so? For days, her touching, foolish
I never could be happy as your wife, lines
I never could be harmless as your friend, We mused on with conjectural fantasy,
I never will look more into your face As ifsome riddle of a summer-cloud
Till God says, Look !' I charge you, '
On which one tries unlike similitudes
seek me not. Of now a spotted Hydra-skin cast off.
Nor vex yourself with lamentable And now a screen of carven ivory
thoughts That shuts the heaven's conventual se-
That peradventure I have come to grief; crets up
Be sure I'm well, I'm merry, I'm at From mortals over-bold. sought the We
ease. sense
But such a long wav, long way, long way She loved him so perhaps (such words
off, mean love,)
 : ' : — ;

8o AURORA LEIGH.
That, worked on by some shrewd per- Repressed me ; something in me shamed
fidious tongue, my doubt
(And tlien I thought of Lady Walde- To a sigh repressed too. He went on to
mar)
She left him, not to hurt him ; or per- That, puttmg questions where his Ma-
liaps rian lodged.
She loved one in her class, — or did not He found she had received for visitors.
love, Besides himself and Lady Waldemar
But mused upon her wild bad tramping And, that once, me a dubious woman —
life dressed
Until the free blood fluttered at her Beyond us both. The rings upon her
heart, hands
And black bread eaten by the road-side Had dazed the children when she threw
hedge them pence
Seemed sweeter than being put to Rom- '
She wore her bonnet as the queen might
ney's school
Of pliilanthropical self-sacrifice, To show
hers.
the crown,' they said,
— ' a scar-
Irrevocably. — Girls are girls, beside, let crown
Thought I, and like a wedding by one Of roses that had never been in bud.'
rule.
You seldom catch these birds except When Romney told me that,— for now
with chaff: and then
They feel it almost an immoral thing He came to tell me how the search ad-
To go out and be married in broad day, vanced.
Unless some winning special flattery His voice dropped : I bent forward for
should the rest ;

Excuse them to themselves for't, No . .

'
The woman had been with her, it ap-
one parts peared.
Her hair with such a silver line as you, At first from week to week, then day by
One moonbeam from the forehead to the day,
crown !
And last, 'twas sure . .

Or else You bite your lip in such a

. .
' I looked upon the grountl
way, I'o escape the anguish of his eyes, and
It spoils me for the smiling of the rest '
asked
And so on. Then a worthless gaud or As low as when 3'ou speak to mourners
two new
To keep for love, —a ribbon for the neck. Of those they cannot bear yet to call
Or some glass pin, — they have their dead,
weight with girls. '
If Marian had as much as named to
him
And Romney sought her many days and A certain Rose, an early friend of hers,
weeks A ruined creature.'
He sifted all the refuse of the town. '
Never.'- Starting up
Explored the trains, inquired among the He strode from side to side about the
ships, room,
And felt the country through from end to Most like some prisoned lion sprung
end ;
awake,
No Marian !- Though I hinted what I Who has felt the desert sting him through
knew, — his dreams.
A friend of his had reasons of her own '
What was I to her that she should tell

For tinowing back the match he would — me aught ?

not hear A friend! was / a friend? I see all

The lady Jiad been ailing ever since, ^ clear.

Tlie shock had harmed her. Sometlung Such devils would pull angels out ol'

in his tone heaven,

 ; — :

AURORA LEIGH.
Provided they could reacli them ; 'tis He drew a chair beside me, and sate
their pride ;
down ;

And that's the odds 'twixt soul and body- And instinctively, as women use
I,

plague ! Before a sweet friend's grief, when, in —

The veriest slave who drops in Cairo's his ear.
street, They hum the tune of comfort though
Cries. Stand off from me,' to the pass-
' themselves
engers ; Most ignorant of the special words of
While these blotched souls are eager to such,
infect. And quiet so and fortify his brain
And blow their bad breath in a sister's And give it time and strength for feeling
face out
As if they got some ease by it.' To reach the availing sense beyond that
I broke througli. sound,
'
Somenatures catch no plagues. I've Went murmuring to him what, if written
read of babes here.
Found whole and sleeping by the spotted Would seem not much, yet fetched him
breast better help
Of one a full day dead. I hold it true. Than, peradventure, if it had been more.
As I'm a woman and know womanhood,
That Marian Erie, however lured from I've known the pregnant thinkers of our
place, time.
Deceived in way, keeps pure in aim and And stood by breathless, hanging on
heart their lips.
As snow that's drifted from the garden- When some chromatic sequence of fine
bank thought
To the open road.' In learned modulation phrased itself
'Twas hard to hear liim laugh. To an unconjectured harmony of truth.
• The figure's happy. —
Well a dozen And yet I've been more moved, more
carts raised, I say.
And trampers will secure yoii presendy By a simple word . . a broken easy
A fine white snow-drift. Leave it there, thing
your snow ! A three-years infant might at need re-
'Twill pass for soot ere sunset. Pure in peat.
aim? A look, a sigh, a touch upon the palm,
She's pure ia aim, I grant you,— like Wliich meant less than I love you ' *
. .

myself. than by all

Who thought to take the world upon my The full-voiced rhetoric of those master-
back mouths.
To carry it o'er a chasm of social ill,
And end by letting slip through impo- *
Ah, dear Aurora,' he began at last,
tence His pale lips fumbling for a sort of smile,
A single
soul, a child's weight in a soul, '
Your printer's devils have not spoilt
down the pit of hell yes, I and
Straight ! your heart
she That's well. And who knows but, long
Have reason to be proud of our pure years ago.
aims.' When you and I talked, you were some-
what right
Then softly, as the last repenting drops In being so peevish with me ? You, at

Of a thunder-shower, he added, ' The least.

poor child Have ruined no one through your dreams.
Poor Marian ! 'twas a luckless day for Instead,
her, You've helped the facile youth live

When first she chanced on my philan- youth's day

thropy.' With innocent distraction, still perhaps
 ; ' '

AURORA LEIGH.

Suggestive of things better tlian your

'
Not so, my cousin, — only not asleep,*
rhymes. I answered, smiling gently. ' Let it be.
The little shepherd-maiden, eight years You scarcely found the poet of Vaucluse
old, As drowsy as the shepherds. What is
I've seen upon the mountains of Vau- art
cluse. But life upon the larger scale, the high-
Asleep i' the sun, her head upon her er.

knees, When, graduating up in a spiral line

The flocks all scattered,— is more lauda- Of still expanding and ascending gyres.
ble It pushes toward the intense significance
Than any sheep-dog tramed imperfectly, Of all things, hungry for the Infinite ?

Who bites the kids through too much Art's life. — and where we live, we suffer

zeal.' and toil.'

'
I look
As if I had slept, then ?
He seemed to sift me with his painful
eyes.
He was touched at once j
'
You take it gravely, cousin ; you re-

By something in my face. Indeed 'twas fuse

sure Your dreamland's right of common, and
That he and I,— despite a year or two green rest.
Of younger life on my side, and on Jiis You break the mythic turf where danced
The heaping of the years' work on the the nymphs
days, With crooked ploughs of actual life, — let
The three-hour speeches from the mem- in
ber's seat. The axes to the legendary woods.
The hot committees in and out of doors, To pay the head-tax. You are fallen in-
The pamphlets, Arguments,' Collec-
' ' deed
tive Views,' On evil days, yourselves you poets, if

Tossed out as straw before sick houses, Can praise that art of yours no other-
just wise ;

To show one's sick and so be trod to dirt And, if you cannot,' . . better take a
And no more use, — through this world's trade
underground And be of use : 'twere cheaper for your
The burrowing, groping effort, whence youth.'
the arm
And heart come torn, 'twas sure that — '
Of use !
' I softly echoed, '
there's the
he and I point
Were, after all, unequally fatigued ! We sweep about forever in an argu-
That he, in Ills developed manhood, ment ;

stood Like swallows which the exasperate, dy-

A littlesunburnt by the glare of life ; ing year
While I it seemed no sun had shone
. . Sets spinning in black circles, round and
on me, round.
So many seasons I had missed my Preparing for far flights o'er unknown
Springs seas.
My cheeks had pined and perished from And we where tend we ?
. .

their orbs, Where ? he said, and sighed.

' '

And youth-blood in them had

all the '
The whole creation, from the hour we
grown white are born.
As dew on autumn cyclamens alone : Perplexes us with questions. Not a
My eyes and forehead answered for my stone
face. But cries behind us. every weary step,
*
Where, where ? ' I leave stones to reply
He said, '
Aurora, you are changed— are to stones.
iU!' Enough for me and for my fleshly heart
 — —
AURORA LEIGH.
Toharken the invocations of my kind, . Remember then ! — for Art's sake, hold
When men catch hold upon my shudder- your hfe.'
ing nerves
And shriek, 'What help? what hope? We parted so. I held him in respect.
what bread i' the house ?
I comprehended what he was in heart
What fire i' the frost? There
' must be And sacrificial greatness. Ay, but he
some response, Supposed me a thing too small to deign
Though mine fail utterly. This social to know ;

Sphinx He blew me, plainly, from the crucible,

Who sits between the sepulchres and As some intruding, interrupting fly
stews, Not worth the pains of his analysis
Makes mock and mow against the crys- Absorbed on nobler subjects. Hurt a
tal heavens, fly!
And bullies God,— exacts a word at least He would not for the world he's pitiful :

From each man standing on the side of To flies even. 'Sing,' says he, 'and
God, teaze me still.

However paying a sphinx-price for it.

If that's your way, poor insect.' That's
We pay it also if we hold our peace, your way.
In pangs and pity. Let me speak and
die.
Alas ! you'll say I speak and kill in- FIFTH BOOK.
stead.'
Aurora Leigh, be humble. Shall I
I pressed in there. ' The best men, do- hope
ing their best. To speak my poems mysterious tune
in
Know peradventure least of what they With man aiTd nature, —
with the lava-
do: lymph
Men usefullest i' the world, are simply That trickles from successive galaxies
used ; Still drop by drop adown the finger of
The nail that holds the wood, must pierce God
it first. In new worlds?— with summer-days
still
And He alone who wields the hammer, in this.
sees That scarce dare breathe they are so
The work advanced by the earliest blow. beautiful ?
Take heart.' With Spring's delicious trouble in the
* Ah, if I could have taken yours !
' he ground
said, Tormented by the quickened blood of
* But that's past now.' Then rising . . roots,
'
I will take And softly pricked by golden crocus-
At least your kindness and encourage- sheaves
ment. In token of the harvest-time of flowers?
I thank you. Dear, be happy. Sing With winters and with autumns, and —
your songs. beyond
If that's your way but sometimes slum-! With the human heart's large seasons,
ber too, when it hopes
Nor tire too much with following, out of And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?
breath. with all that strain
The rhvmes upon your mountains of De- Of sexual passion, which devours the
light. flesh
Reflect, if Art be in truth the higher In a sacrament of souls ? with mother's
life, breasts
You need the lower life to stand upon Which, round the new-made creatures
In order to reach up unto that higher: hanging there.
And none can stand a-tiptoe in the place Throb luminous and harmonious like
He cannot stand in with two stable feet. pure spheres ?
 — ; —

84 AURORA LEIGH.
With multitudinous life, and finally Good only being perceived as the end of
With the great escapings of ecstatic souls, good.
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned And God alone pleased, that's too poor, —
flame, we think,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away And not enough for us by any means.
This dark of the body, issuing on a Ay — Romney, I remember, told me once
world We miss the abstract, when we compre-
Beyond our mortal?— can I speak my hend.
verse We miss it most when we aspire, . . and
So plainly in tune to these things and the fail.
rest.
That men shall feel it catch them on iho Yet, so, I will not. — This vile woman's
quick, way
As liaving the same warrant over them Of trailing garments, shall not trip me
To hold and move them if they will or up.
no, I'llhave no traffic with the personal
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm thought
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail, In art's pure temple. Must I work in
Who fail at the beginning to hold and vain.
move Without the approbation of a man ?

One man, — and he my cousin, and he It cannot be it shall not. Fame itself,
;

my friend, That approbation of the general race.

And he born tender, made intelligent, Presents a poor end, (though the arrow
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides speed,
Of difficult questions yet obtuse to ine,; Shot straight with vigorous finger to the
Oitne, incurious likes me very well,
! white,)
And wishes me a paradise of good, And the highest fame was never reached
Good looks, good means, and good di- except
gestion,— ay. By what was aimed above it. Art for
But otherwise evades me, puts me olf art,
With kindness, with a tolerant gentle- And good for God Himself, the essen-
ness, tial Good !

Too light a book for a grave man's read- We'll keep our aims sublime, our eyes
ingGo, ! erect,
Aurora Leigh : be humble. Although our woman hands should shake
There it is, and fail
We women are too apt to look to one. And if we fail But must we? . .

Which proves a certain impotence in Shall I fail?

art. The Greeks said grandly in their tragic
We strain oui natures at doing something .
phrase,
great, '
Let no one be called happy till his
Far less because it's sometlnng great to death.'
do. To which I add, — Let no one till his
Than haply that we, so, commend our- death
selves Be called unhappy. Measure not the
As being not small, and more apprecia- work
ble Until the day's out and the labour done ;
To some one friend. We must have Then bring your gauges. If the day's
mediators work's scant.
Betwixt our highest conscience and the Why, call it scant ; affect no compro-
judge ;
mise ;

Some sweet saint's blood must quicken And, in that we have nobly stiven at
in our palms least.
Or all the life in heaven seems slow and Deal with us nobly, women though we
cold: be,
 ;' :

AURORA LEIGH. 8=;

And honor us with trutli if not with Fauns, Naiads, Tritons. Oreads, and
praise. the rest,
To take possession of a senseless world
My ballads prospered ; but the ballad's 'I'o unnatural vampyre-uses. See the
race earth.
Is rapid for a poet who
bears weights The body of our body, the green earth,
Of thought and golden image. He can Indubitably human like this flesh
stand And these articulated veins through
Like Atlas, in the sonnet,— and support which
His own heavens pregnant with dynastic Our heart drives blood there's not a
!

stars flower of spring

But then he must stand still, nor take a That dies ere June, but vaunts itself al-
step. lied
By and symbol, by significance
issue
In that descriptive poem called 'The And correspondence, totliat spirit-world
Hills,' Outside the limits of our space and
The prospects were too far and indis- time.
tinct. Whereto we are bound. Let poets give
'Tis true my critics said, ' fine view, A it voice
that !

With human meanings else they miss

;
The public scarcely cared to climb the the thought.
book And henceforth step down lower, stand
For even the finest ; and the public's confessed
" right, Instructed poorly for interpreters,
A tree's mere firewood, imless human- 'J'hrown out by an easy cowslip in the
ised ; text.
Which well the Greeks knew when they
stirred its bark
With close-pressed bosoms of subsiding Even so my pastoral failed : it was a
nymphs, book
And made the forest-rivers garrulous Of surface-pictures — pretty, cold, and
With babble of gods. For us, we are false
called to mark With literal transcript, — the worse done,
A still more intimate humanity I think,
—
In this inferior nature, or, ourselves, For being not
mark
ill-done. Let me set my
Must fall like dead leaves trodden un-
derfoot Against such doings, and do otJierwise.
By veritable artists. Earth, shut up —
This strikes me. If the public whom
By Adam, like a fakir in a box we know.
Left too long buried, remained stiff and Could catch me at such admissions, I
dry, should pass
A mere dumb corpse, till Christ the T>ord For being right modest. Yet how proud
came down, we are,
Unlocked the doors, forced open the In daring to look down upon ourselves !

blank eyes,
And used His kingly chrism to straighten The say that epics have died out
critics
out With Agamemnon and the goat-nursed
The leathery tongue turned back into gods—
the throat I'll not believe it. I could never deem
Since when, she lives, remembers, pal- As Payne Knight did, (the mythic moun-
pitates taineer
In every limb, aspires in every breath, Who travelled higher than he was born
Embraces infinite relations. Now to live,
We want no half-gods, Panomphsean And showed sometimes the goitre in his
Jovcs, throat
 _ :

AURORA LF.IGH.

Discoursing of an image seen through Mouth, muttering rhythms c/ silence up

fog,) the sky.
That Homer's heroes measurad twelve And fed at evening with the blood of
feet high. suns ;

They were but men : —his Helen's hair Grand torso, — hand that flung perpetual-
turned gray
Like any plain Miss Smith's, who wears The largesse of a silver river down
a front ;
To all the country pastures. 'Tis even
And Hector's infant Avhimpered at a thus
plume. With times we live in, — evermore too
All actual heroes are essential men, great
And all men possible heroes every age. : To be apprehended near.
Heroic in proportions, double-faced, But poets should
Looks backward and before, expects a Exert a double vision should have eyes
;

morn To see near things as comprehensively

And claims an epos. As if afar they took their point of sight.
Ay, but every age And distant things as intimately deep
Appears to souls who live in 't, (ask As if they touched them. Let us' strive
for this.
Carlyle)
I distrust the poet who discerns
do
Most unheroic. Ours, for instance,
ours :
No character or glory in his times,
The thinkers scout it, and the poets And trundles back his soul five hundred
years.
abound
Who scorn to touch it with a finger-tip Past moat and drawbridge, into a castle-
A pewter age,— mixed metal, silver-
To
court,
—
sing oh not of lizard or of toad
washed ;
Alive i' the ditch there,
—
'twere excusa-
An age of scum, spooned off the richer
ble ;
past,
An age of patches for old gaberdines, But of some black chief, half knight, lialf
sheep-lifter.
An age of mere transition, meaning
nought Some beauteous dame, half chattel and
Except that what succeeds must shame half queen,
it quite As dead as must be, for the greater part,
If God please. That's \\xo\\% thinking, The poems made on their chivalric
my mind, bones.
to
And wrong thoughts make poor poems. And that's no wonder : death inherits
death.
Every a^c.
Through being beheld too close, is lU- Nay, if there's room for poets in this
discerned world
By those who have not lived past it. A overgrown, (I think there is)
little

We'll suppose Their sole work is to represent the age,

Mount Athos carved, as Alex.ander Their age, not Charlemagne's,— this live,
schemed. throbbing age.
To some colossal statue of a man : That brawls, cheats, maddens, calculates,
The peasants, gathering brushwood in aspires,
his ear. And spends more passion, more heroic
Had guessed as little as the browsing heat,
goats Betwixt the mirrors of its drawing-
Of form or feature of humanity rooms.
Up there, —
in fact, had travelled five Than Roland
with Iiis knights r.t

miles off Roncesvalles.

Or ere the giant image broke on tliem, To flinch from modem varnish, coat or
Full human profile, nose and chin dis- flounce.
tinct, Cry out for togas and the picturesque,
 : —
AURORA LEIGH.
Is fatal, —faolish too. King Arilnir's And all the close-curled imagery clipped
self In manner of their fleece at shearing-
Was commonplace to Lady Guenever ;
time.
And Camelot to minstrels seemed as Forget to prick the galleries to the heart
flat, Precisely at the fourth act, culminate —
As Fleet Street to our poets. Our five pyramidal acts with one act
Never flinch. more,
But still, unscrupulously epic, catch We're lost so Shakspeare's ghost
!

Upon the burning lava of a song could scarcely plead

The full-veined, heaving, double-breast- Against our just damnation. Stand
ed age aside ;

That, when the next shall come, the men We'll muse for comfort that, last cen-
of that tury,
May touch the impress with reverent On this same tragic stage on which we
hand, and say have failed,
* Behold, —behold, the paps we all have A wigless Hamlet would have failed the
sucked ! same.
This bosom seems to beat still, or at
least And whosoever writes good poetry,
It sets ours beating. This is living art, Looks just to art. He does not write
Which thus presents and thus records for you
true life.' Or me, — for London or for Edinburgh ;
He will not suffer the best critic known
What form is best for poems ? Let me To step into his sunsliine of free thought
think And self-absorbed conception, and exact
Of forms less, and the external. Trust An inch-long swerving of the holy lines.
the spirit, If virtue done for popularity
As sovran nature does, to make the Defiles like vice, can art for praise or
form ; Iiire
For otherwise we only imprison spirit Still keep its splendour, and remain pure
And not embody. Inward evermore art?
To outward,— so in life, and so in art, Eschew such serfdom. What the poet
Which still is life. . writes,
Five acts to make a play. He writes: mankind accepts it if it suits.
And why not fifteen? why not ten? or And that's success : if not, the poem's
seven ? passed
What matter for the number of the From hand to hand, and yet from hand
leaves. to hand.
Supposing the tree lives and grows? ex- Until the unborn snatch it, crying out
act In pity on their fathers' being so dull,
The literal unities of time and place, And that's success too.
When 'tis the essence of passion to ig- I will write no plays:
nore Because the drama, less sublime in this,
Both time and place ? Absurd. Keep Makes lov/er appeals, defends more
up the fire, menially.
And leave the generous flames to shape Adopts the standard of the public taste
themselves. To chalk its height on, wears a dog-chain
round
'Tis true the stage requires obsequious- Its regal neck, and learns to carry and
ness fetch
To this or that convention exit ' here ;
'
The fashions of the day to please the
And ' enter there the points for clap-
'
; day ;

ping, fixed, Fawns close on pit and boxes, who clap

Like Jacob's white-peeled rods beforti hands.
the rams : Commending chiefly its docility
 ;

A URORA LEIGH.

And humour in stage-tricks ; or else in- Should litter in the Drama's throne-room .

deed where
Gets hissed at, howled at, stamped at The rulers of oui* art, in whose full veins
like H dog, Dynastic glories mingle, sit in strength
Or worse, we'll say. For dogs, unjustly And do their kingly work, conceive, —
kicked,
command.
Yell; bite at need ; but if your drama- And, from the imagination's crucial heat.
tist
Catch up their men and and women all
a- flame
(Being wronged by some five hundred
For action, all alive and forced to prove
nobodies
Their life by living out heart, brain, and
Because their grosser brains most natu-
rally
nerve,
Until mankind makes witness, ' These
Misjudge the fineness of his subtle wit) be men
Shows teeth an almond's breadth, pro- As we are,' and vouchsafes the greeting
tests the length
Of a modest phrase,
— ' My gentle coun- due
trymen,
To Imogen and Juliet— sweetest kin
'
There's something in it haply of your On art's side.
fault,'—
'Tis that, honouring to its worth
Why, then, beside five hundred nobod-
The drama, I would fear to keep it down
ies.
To the level of the footliglits. Dies no
He'll have five thousand and five thou-
more
sand more
—
Against him, the whole public, — all the
The Bacchus slain,
sacrificial goat, for
His filmed eyes fluttered by the whirling
hoofs
white
Of King Saul's father's asses, in full
Of choral vestures, — troubled in li;s
drove.
blood,
And obviously deserve it. He appealed
While tragic voices that clanged keen ns
To these,~and why say more if they
swords.
condemn.
him?— Weep, my Leapt high together with the altar-flame
Than if they praise
And made the blue air wink. The waxen
./EschyUis,
mask.
But low and far, upon Sicilian shores !
Which set the grand still front of Themis'
For since 'twas Athens (so I read the son
myth) Upon the puckered visage of a player — ;

Who gave commission to that fatal The buskin, which he rose upon and
weight moved,
The tortoise, cold and hard, to drop on As some tall shii) first conscious of the
thee wind
And crush thee,—better cover thy bald Sweeps slowly r^st the piers ;
— the
head mouth-piece, where
She'll hear the softest hum of Hyblan
The mere man's voice with all its breaths
bee and breaks
Before thy loudest protestation I Then Went sheathed in bras.s, and clashed on
1'he risk's still worse upon the modern even heights
stage ;
Itsphrased thunders ;-- these things aie
T could not, for so little, accept success, no more,
Nor would I risk so much, iu ease and Which once were. And concluding,
calm, which is clear,
For manifester gains; let those who T'be growing drama has outgrown such
prize, toys
Pursue them : / stand off. Of simulated stature, face, and speech.
And j-et, forbid, It alsoperadventure may outgrow
That any iireverent fancy or conceit The .simulation of the painted scene,
 ;

AURORA LEIGH. S9

Jioards, actors, prompters, gaslight, and That he should be the colder for his
costume place
And take for a worthier stage the soul it- 'Twixt two incessant Ares, — his personal
self, life's,
_

Its shifting fancies and celestial lights, And that intense refraction which burns
With all its grand orchestral silences back
To keep the pauses of the rhythmic Perpetually against him from the round
sounds. Of crystal conscience he was born into
If artist-born ? O sorrowful great gi.t
Alas, I still see something to be done. Conferred on poets, of a twofold life.
And what I do falls short of what I see When one life has been found enough
Though I waste myself on doing. Long for pain !

green days. We staggering 'neath our burden as mere

Worn bare of grass and sunshine, long — men,
calm nights, Being called to stand up straight as
From which the silken sleeps were fretted demi-gods.
out, Support the intolerable strain and stress
Be witness for me, with no amateur's Of the universal, and send clearly up
Irreverent Iiaste and busy idleness With voices broken by the human sob,
X set myself to art What then ? what's
1 Our poems to find rhymes among the
done ? stars !

What's done, at last ? But soft !

—
a jjoet' is a word soon said ;
'

Behold, at last, a book. A book's a thing soon written. Nay,

If life-blood's necessary, which it is, — indeed,
The more the poet shall be questionable,
(By that blue vein athrob on Mahomet's
brow. The more unquestionably comes his
Each prophet-poet's book must show book.
man's blood !)
And this of mine — well, granting to my-
If life-blood's fertilising, I wrung mine self
On every leaf of this, unless the drops — Some passion in it, furrowing up the
flats,
Slid heavily on one side and left it dry.
That chances often : many a fervid man Mere passion will not prove a volume
Writes books as cold and flat as grave- worth
Its gall and rags even. Bubbles round
yard stones
From which the lichen's scraped, and if a keel
St. Preux
Mean nought, excepting that the vessel
Had written his own letters, as he might. moves.
We had never wept to think of the itttle There's more than passion goes to make
mole a man
'Neath Julie's drooping eyelid. Passion Or book, which is a man too.
is
I am sad,
But something suffered, after all.
I wonder if Pygmalion had these
doubts,
While art And, feeling the hard marble first re-
Sets action on the top of suffering : lent,
The artist's part is both to be and do, Grow supple to the straining of his arms.
Transfixing with a special, central power And tingle through its cold to his burn-
The flat experience of the common man, ing lip,
And turning outward, with a sudden Supposed his senses mocked, and that
wrench, the toil
Half agony, half ecstasy, the thing Of stretching past the known and seen
He feels the inmost never felt the less
: to reach
Because he sings it. Does a torch less The archetvpal Beauty out of sight.
burn Had made his heart beat fast enough for
For burning next reflectors of blue steel. two,
 ;

90 AURORA LEIGH.

And with his own hfe dazed and blinded '

My Father ! — tlion hast knowledge,
him !
only thou.'
Not so; Pygmalion loved,— and whoso How dreary 'tis for women to sit still
loves On winter nights by solitary fires.
Believes the impossible. And hear the nations praising them far

And I am sad :
off,

I cannot thoroughly love a work of

Too far ! ay, praising our quick sense of
love.
mine,
Since none seems worthy of my thought
Our very heart of passionate woman-
hood,
and hope
More highly mated. He has shot them Which could not beat so in the verse
without
down,
My Phoebus Apollo, soul within my soul, Being present also in the unkissed lips,
Who judges by the attempted, what's at- And eyes undried because there's none
to ask
tained,
And with the silver arrow from his The reason they rrov/ moist.
height
Has struck down all my works before
To sit alone,
my face
And think for comfort how, that very
night.
While I said nothing. Is there aught
Affianced lovers, leaning face to face
to say ?

the artist but a greatened man

With sweet half-listenings for each other's
I call :

breath
Ha may be childless also, like a man.
Are reading haply from a page of ours.
To pause with a thrill, as if their cheeks
1 laboured on alone. The wind and had touched.
dust When sucli a stanza, level to their mood,
And sun of the world beat blistering in Seems floating their own thoughts out—
my face So I feel
And hope, now
;

for me, now against me,

'

—
For thee,' 'And I, for thee: this poet
dragged knows
My spirits onward, — as some fallen
What everlasting love is '-how, that !

balloon, night,_
AVhich, whether caught by blossoming A from the misty roads
father, issuing
tree or bare, Upon the luminous round of lamp and
Is torn alike. I sometimes touched my hearth
aim, And happy children, having caught up
Or seemed,— and generous souls cried first
out, Be strong. '
The youngest there until it shrink and
Take courage now you're on our level,;
shriek
—now !
To feel the cold chin prick its dimples
The next step saves you I was flushed '
!
through
with praise, With winter from the hills, may throw i'
But, pausing just a moment to draw
the lap
breath, Of the eldest, (who has learnt to drop
I could not choose but murmur to my-
her lids
self To hide some sweetness newer than last
*
Is this all ? all that's done ? and all
year's)
that's gained ? Our book and cry, . .
'
Ah you, }()u care
If this then be success, 'tis dismaller for rhymes
Than any failure.'
So here be rhymes to jiorc on under
O my God, my God, trees,
O Supreme Artist, who as sole return When April comes to let vou ! I've been
For all the cosmic wonder of Thy work, told
Demandest of us just a word a name, . , They are not idle as so many are.
 : :

AURORA LEIGir. 9'

But set hearts beating pure as well as Preferring dreary hearths to desert
fast souls.
'Tis yours, the book; I'll write your Well, well, they say we're envious, we
name in it, who rhyme ;

That so you may not lose, however lost But I, because am a woman perhaps,
I

In poet's lore and charming reverie, And so rhyme ill, am ill at envying.
The thought of how your father thought I never envied Graham his breadth of
of you style,
In riding from the town.' Which gives you, with a random snuitcli
or two,
To have our books (Near-sighted critics analyse to smutch)
Appraised by love, associated with love, Such delicate perspectives of full life ;
AVhile we sit loveless is it hard, you !
Nor Belmore, for tlie unity of aim
think ?
To which he cuts his cedarn poems, fine
At least 'tis mournful. Fame, indeed, As sketchers do their pencils ; nor Mark
'twas said.
Gage.
Means simply love. It was a man said
For that caressing colour and trancing
that.
tone
And then, there's love and love the :
Whereby you're swept away and melted
love of all
in
(To risk in turn a woman's paradox.) The sensual element, which with a back
Is but a small thing to the love of one.
wave
You bid a hungry cliild be satisfied Restores you to the level of pure souls
With a heritage of many corn-fields And leaves you with Plotinus. None
nay, of these.
He says he's hungry, he would rather — For native gifts or popular applause,
have
That little barley-cake you keep from
I've envied; but for this, that when — by
chance
him Says some one, — ' There goes Belmore,
While reckoning up his harvests. So a great man !

with us ;
He leaves clean work behind him, and
(Here, Romney, too, we fail to general- requires
ise
We're hungry.
!)
No sweeper up of the chips,' . . a girl
I know,
Hungry but it's pitiful
! Who answers nothing, save with her
To wail like unweaned babes and suck brown eyes,
our thumbs Smiles unaware as if a guardian saint
Because we're hungry. Who, in all this —
Smiled in her: for this, too,— that
world, Gage comes home
(Wherein we are liaply set to pray and And lays his last book's prodigal review
fast, Upon his mother's knees, where, years
And learn what good is by its opposite) ago,
Has never hungered ? Woe to liim who He laid his childish spelling-book and
has found learned
The meal enough: if Ugolino's full. To chirp and peck the letters from her
His teeth have crunched some foul un- mouth,
natural thing: As young birds must. ' Well done,' she
For here satiety proves penury murmured then,
More utterly irremediable. And since She will not say it now more wonder-
We needs must hunger, better, for — ingly ;

man's love And Well done,' will toucli

yet the last '

Than God's truth better, for compan- ! him more,

ions sweet, As catching up to-day and yesterday
Than great convictions let us bear our ! In a perfect cord of love ; and so, Mark
weights. Gage,
 — —
AU2<OAA

I envy you your mother I — nnd you, Gra- |

I've seen some men, veracious, nowi.se
ham, mad.
rJecause you have a wife who loves you Who have dreamed, de-
thouglit or
so, clared and testified,
She half forgets, at inoments, to be 'I'heyheard the Dead a licking like a
proud clock
Of being Graham's wife, until a friend Whicli strikes the hours of the eterni-
observes, ties,
'
The boy here, has his father's massive Beside iheni, with their natural ears, and
brow, knoA.i
Done small in wa:: .if v.e jiush back That human spirits feel the human way,
the curls.' And hate the unreasoning awe which
waves them off
From maybe.
Who loves ?«^ ? Dearest father, moth- — possible communion. It

er sweet,
I speak the names out sometimes 1 y At least, earth separates r.s well as
myself, lieaven.
And make the silence shiver they : For instance, 1 have not seen Romncy
sound strange, Leigh
As Hindostanee to an Ind-born man Full eighteen months add six, you. .

Accustomed many years to Englisli get two years.

speech ;
'I'hey say he's very busy with good
Or lovely poet-words grown obsolete. works,
Which will not leave off singing. Up Has parted Leigh Hall into almshouses.
in heaven He made an almshouse of his heart one
I have my father, —with my mother's day,
face Whicii ever since is loose upon the latch
Beside him in a blotch of heavenly For tiiose who pull the string.— I never
light; did.
No more for earth's familiar household
use, It always makes me sad to go abroad ;

No more ! The best verse written by And now I'm sadder that 1 went to-
this hand, night
Can never reach them where they sit, to
Among the lights and talkers r.t Lord
seem Howe's.
Well-done to /ke/n. Death quite un- His wife is gracious, with h.cr glossy
fellows us. braids.
Sets dreadful odds betwixt the live and And even voice, and gorgeous eyeballs,
dead, calm
And makes us part as those at Babel did As her other jewels. If she's somewhat
Through sudden ignorance of a common cold,
tongue. Who wonders, when her blood has stood
A living Cassar would not dare to play so long
At bovv'ls with such as my dead father In the ducal reservoir she calls her line
By no means arrogantly? she's not
proud :

And yet this may be less so than ap- Not prouder than the swan Is of the
pears, lake
This change and separation. Sparrows He has always swum in ;— 'tis her ele-
five ment,
For just two farthings, and God cares And so she takes it with a natural grace.
for each. Ignoring tadpoles. She just knows per-
If God is not too great for little cares. haps
Is any creature, because gone to God ? There «/v who travel without outriders,
 ' — — — '

AURORA LEIGH. 93

Wliich isn't her fault. All, to watch Of full-breathed beauty. If the heart
her face, within
When good Lord Howe expounds his Were half as white !
— but, if it were,
theories perhaps
Of and equality
social justice The breasts were closer covered, and the
'Tis curious, what a tender, tolerant sight
ben d Less aspectable, by half, too.
Her neck takes: for she loves him, I heard
likes his talk, The young man with the German stu-
'
Such clever talk— that dear, odd Alger- dent's look—
non !
A sharp face, like a knife in a cleft stick.
She listens on, exactly as if he talked Which shot up straight against the part-
Some Scandinavian myth of Lemures, ing line
Too pretty to dispute, and too absurd. So equally dividing the long hair,
Say softly to his neighbor, (thirty-five
me as her husband's
And mediseval) ' Look that way. Sir
She's gracious to
Blaise.
friend,
And would be gracious, were I not a
She's Lady Waldemar —to the left,— in
red
Leigh, Whom Romney Leigh, our ablest man
Being used to smile just so, without her just now.
eyes. Is soon about to marry.'
On Joseph Strangways, the Leeds mes- Then replied
merist. Sir Blaise Delorme, with quiet, priestlike
And Delia Dobbs, the lecturer from '
the voice.
States' Too used to syllable damnations round
Upon the '
Woman's question.' Then, To make a' natural emphasis worth
for him, while :

I like hirn . . he's my friend. And all '

Is Leigh your ablest man? the same, I
the rooms think.
Were full of crinkling silks that swept Once jilted by a recreant pretty maid
about Adopted from the people? Now, in
Tlie fine dust of most subtle courtesies. change,
What then?— why then, we come home He seems to have plucked a flower from
to be sad. the other side
How lovely One I love not looked to- Of the social hedge.'
night !
'
A
flower, a flower,' exclaimed
She's very pretty, Lady Waldemar. My German student,— his own eyes full-
Her maid must use both hands to twist blown
that coil Bent on her. He was twenty, certainly.
Of tresses, then be careful lest the rich
Bronze rounds should slip: she missed, — Sir Blaise resumed with gentle arro-
though, a gray hair, gance.
A single one, — I saw it otherwise
; As he had dropped his alms into a hat
if
The woman looked immortal. How And gained the right to counsel,— 'My
they told. young friend,
Those alabaster shoulders and bare I doubt your ablest man's ability
breasts. To get the least good or help meet for
On which the pearls, drowned out of him.
sight in milk. For pagan phalanstery or Christian
Were lost, excepting for the ruby-clasp ! home,
They split the amaranth velvet-boddice Fror.i such a flowery creature.'
down '
Beautitul !

To the waist or nearly, with iV.z auda- My student murmured, rapt,—' Mark
cious press how she stirs 1
 ; : ' ;

94 AURORA LEIGH.
Just waves her liead, as if a flower in- As doublets, by the colour. Otherwise
deed, Our fathers chose, and therefore, when —
Touched far off by the vain breatli of they had lumg
our talk.' Their household keys about a lady's
waist,
At which that bilious Grimwald, (he The sense of duty gave her dignity :

who writes •She kept her bosom holy to her babes ;

For the Renovator) who had seemed And, if a moralist reproved her dress,
absorbed 'Twas, Too much starch
'
and not, ! '
—
Upon the table-book of autographs, '
Too little lawn !
'

(I dare say mentally he crunched the

bones '
Now, psiiaw !
' returned the other in a
Of all those writers, wishing them alive heat,
To feel his tooth in earnest) turned short A little fretted by being called '
young
round friend,'
With low carnivorous laugh, — ' a flower, Or so I took it,—' for St. Lucy's sake.
of course ! If she's the saint to swear by, let \is
She neither sews nor spins, — and takes leave
no thought Our fathers, — plagued
about
'
enough
Of her garments . . falling off.' our sons !

The student flinched, (He stroked his beardless chin) 'yes,

Sir Blaise, the same ; then both, draw- plagued, sir, plagued :

ing back their chairs The future generations lie on us

As if they spied black-beetles on the As heavy as the nightmare of a seer
floor. Our meat and drink grow painful proph-
Pursued their talk, without a word being ecy
thrown I ask you, —
have we leisure, if we liked.
To the critic. To hollow out our weary hands to keep
Good high
Sir Blaise's brow is Your intermittent rushlight of he past
And noticeably narrow a strong wind, : From draughts in lobbies? Prejudice
You fancy, might unroof him suddenly. of sex
And blow that great top attic off his And marriage-law the socket drops . .

head them through

So piled with feudal relics. You admire While- we two speak, however may —
His nose in profile, though you miss his protest
chin Some over-delicate nostrils, like your
But, though you miss his chin, you sel- own,
dom miss 'Gainst odours thence arising.'
His ebon cross worn innermostly, '
You are young,'
(carved Sir Blaise objected.
For penance by a saintly Styrian monk If I am,' he said
Whose flesh was too much with him,) With fire, —
though somewhat less so
'
'

slipping through than I seem.

Some unaware unbuttoned casualty The young run on before, and see the
Of the under-waistcoat. With an absent thing
air That's coming. Reverence for the young,
Sir Blaise sate fingering it and speaking 1 cry.
low. In that new church for which the world's
While I, upon the sofa, heard it all. near ripe,
You'll have the younger in the Elder's
•
My dear young friend, if we could bear chair.
our eyes Presiding with his ivory front of hope
Like blessedest St. Lucy, on a plate, O'er foreheads clawed by cruel carrion-
They would not trick us into choosing birds
wives, Of life's experience.'
 :; — . —
;

AURORA LEIGH.
Pray your blessing, sir,' Would fain be a Christian still, for all
'

Sir Blaise replied good-humouredly,

— ' I his wit
plucked Pass that you two may settle it, for me.
:

A silverhair this morning from my beard, You're slow in England. In a month I

Which left me your inferior. Would I learnt
were At Gottingen enough philosophy
Eighteen and worthy to admonisli you ! 'Io stock your English schools for fifty
If young men of your order run before years ;

To see such sights as sexual prejudice Pass that, too. Here alone, I stop you
And marriage-law dissolved, in plainer — short,
words, — Supposing a true man like Leigh could
A general concubinage expressed stand
In a universal pruriency, the thing — Unequal in the stature of his life
Is scarce worth running fast for, and To the height of his opinions. Choose
you'd gain a wife
By loitering with your elders.' Because of a smooth skin ? not he, not —
'
Ah,' he said, he !

'
Who, getting to the top of Pisgah-hill, He'd rail at Venus' self for creaking
slioes.
Can talk with one at bottom of tlie view.
To make it comprehensible ? Why, Unless she walked his way of righteous-
Leigh ness ;

Himself, although our ablest man, I

And if he takes a Venus Meretrix,
said, (No imputation on the lady there)
advanced to see as far as this,
Is scarce Be sure that, by some sleight of Chris-
Which some are he takes up imper- :
tian art.
fectly He has metamorphosed and converted
her
The social question —by one handle
To a Blessed Virgin.'
leaves
Soft '
Sir Blaise drew breath
'

The rest to trail. A Christian socialist,

!

As if it hurt him,—' Soft no blasphemy,

Is Romney Leigh, you understand.'
!

'
I piay you !

Not I '
The first Christians did tlie thing;
'

I disbelieve in Christian-pagans, much Why not the last? asked he of Gottin- '

As you in women-fishes. If we mix gen,

Two colours, we lose both, and make a With just that shade of sneering on the
third lip.
Distinct from either. Mark you to !
Compensates for the lagging of the
mistake beard,
A colour is the sign of a sick brain, '
And so the case is. If that fairest fair
And mine, I thank tiie saints, is clear Is talked of as the future wife of Leigh,
and cool She's talked of too. at least as certainly.
A neutral tint is here impossible. As Leigh's disciple. You may find her
The —
church, and by the church, I mean name
of course On all his missions and commissions,
The catliolic, apostolic, mother-church,— schools.
Draws lines as plain and straiglit as her Asylums, hospitals,— he had her down.
own wall With other ladies whom her starry lead
Inside of which, are Christians, ob- Persuaded from their spheres, to his
viously, country-place
And outside dogs.' . .
In Shropshire, to the famed phalanstery
'
We
thank you. Well I know At Leigh Hall, christianised from Four-
The ancient mother-church would fain own,
ier's
still bite. (In which he has planted out his sapling
For all her toothless gums, —as Leigh stocks
himself Of knowledge into social nurseries)
 — :

96 AURORA LEIGH.
And there, they say, she has tarried half With faces toward your jungle. The<e
a week, were three ;

And milked the cows, and churned, and A spacious lady, five feet ten and fat,
pressed the curd. Who has the devil in her (and there's
And said my sister to the lowest drab
' '
room)
Of all the assembled castaways such ;
For walking to and fro upon the earth.
guls ! _
From Chippewa to China; she requires
Ay, sided with them at the washing- Your autograph upon a tinted leaf
tub— 'Twixt Queen Pomare's and Emperor
Conceive, Sir Blaise, those naked perfect Soulouque's
arms. Pray give it she has energies, though
;

Round glittering arms, plunged elbow- fat:

deep in suds. For me, on fire
I'd rather see a rick
Like wild swans hid in lilies all a-shake.' Than such a woman angry. Then a
youth
Lord Howe came up. ' What, talking Fresh from the backwoods, green as the
poetry underboughs,
So near the image of the unfavoring Asks modestly, Miss Leigh, to kiss your
Muse ?
shoe.
That's yon, Miss Leigh: I've watched
And adds, he has an epic in twelve
you half an hour. parts,
Precisely as 1 watched the statue called
A Pallas in the Vatican ;— you mind Which when you've read, you'll do it for

The face, Sir Blaise?— intensely calm and his boot,—

All which I saved you, and absorb next
sad.
As wisdom cut it off from fellowship,
week
But that spoke louder. Not a word Both manuscript and man, — because a
lord
from yoti I
And these two gentlemen were bold, I
Is still more potent than a poetess
marked, With any extreme republican. Ah, ah,
And unabashed by even your silence.'
You smile at last, then.'
Ah,' '
Thank you.' '

'
Leave the smile.
Said L niy dear Lord Howe, you shall
'

lose the thanks for't, —

not speak I'll ay, and throw
To a printing woman who has lost her
you in

place,
My transatlantic girl, with golden eyes.
(The sweet safe corner of the household
That draw you to her splendid white-
fire
ness as
Behind the heads of children) compli- The pistil of a water-lily draws.
ments Adust with gold. Those girls across the
As if she were a woman. We who have sea
dipt Are tyrannously pretty, and I swore —
Tlie curls before our eyes, may see at (She seemed to me an innocent, frank
girl)
least
As plain as men do : speak out, man to To bring her to you for a woman's kiss.
man ;
Not now, but on some other day or
No compliments, beseech you ' week :

Friend to friend. ' —We'll call it perjury :. I give her up.'

Let that be. We are sad to-night, I
saw, '
No, bring her.'
(—Good night. Sir Blaise ! Ah, Smith Now,' said
'
he, you make it hard '

— he has slipped away] To touch such goodness with a girmy

Isaw you across the room, and stayed, palm.
Miss Leigh, I thought to tease you well, and fret you
To keep a crowd of lion-hunters off, cross,
 — ':' — : ' ' : '

AURORA LEIGH. 97

And myself, when rightly vexed

steel '
That's punishment enough for felony.'
with you,
For telling you a thing to tease you more.' O
'
tender-hearted landlord May I !

tak?
'
Of Romney? My long lease with him, when the time
No, no nothing worse,' he cried,
'
;
arrives
'
Of Romney Leigh than what is buzzed For gathering winter faggots !

about, ' He likes art,

That Jte is taken in an eye-trap too. Buys books and pictures . . of a certain
Like many half as wise. The thing I
kind ;

mean Neglects no patent duty ; a good son '. . .

Refers to you, not him.'

Refers to me.' '

He echoed,—' Me ! You sound it like

'
To a most obedient mother. Born to
a stone wear
Dropped down a dry well very listlessly His father's shoes, she wears her hus-
By one wlio never thinks about the toad band's too
Alive at the bottom. Presently perhaps Indeed I've heard it's touching. Dear
You'll sound your' me' more proudly Lord Howe,
till I shrink.' You shall not praise me so against your
heart,
'
Lord Howe's the toad, then, in this
When I'm at worst for praise and fag-
?
gots.'
question
'
Brief,
'Be
Less bitter with me, for . in short.' he
We'll take it graver. Give me sofa-
said,
.

room, '
have a letter, which he urged me so
I
And quiet hearing. You know Eglin-
To bring you I could scarcely choose
. .
ton,
but yield :
John Eglinton, of Eglinton in Kent?'
Insisting that a new love passing through
*
Is he the toad? —he's rather like the Tiie hand of an old
from it
friendship, caught
snail :
Known chiefly for the house upon his Some reconciling odour.
back :
'
Love, you say ?

Divide the man and house —you kill the My lord, 1 cannot love. I only find
man ;
The rhyme forlove,— and that's not love,
That's Eglinton of Eglinton, Lord my Icrd.

Howe.' Take back your letter.'

*
'
Pause : you'll read it first ?

He answered grave. ' A reputable man,

An excellent landlord of the olden '
I will not read it : it is stereotyped ;

stamp, The same he wrote to, —anybody's

If somewhat slack in new philanthro- name,
pies; Anne Blythe the actress, when she died
Who keeps his birthdays with a tenants' so true,
dance. A duchess fainted in a private box
Is hard upon them when they miss the Pauline the dancer, after the great f>as
church In which her little feet winked over-
Or hold their children back from cate- head
chism. Like other fireflies, and amazed the pit :

But not ungentle when the aged poor Or Baldinacci, when her F in alt
Pick sticks at hedge-sides: nay, I've Had touched the silver tops of heaven
heard him say, itself
The old dame has a twinge because With such a pungent spirit-dart, th«
she stoops Queen
 — :

AURORA LEIGH.
Laid softly, each to each, her white- But soul -strokes merely tell upon the
gloved palms. flesh
And sighed for joy : or else (I thank your They strike from,— it is hard to stand
friend) for art.
Aurora Leigh,— when some indifferent Unless some golden tripod from the sea
rhymes. Be fished up, by Apollo's divine chance,
Like those the boys sang round the holy To throne such feet as yours, my proph-
ox etess,
On Memphis-highway, chance perhaps At Delphi. Think,— the god comes
to set down as fierce
Our Apis- public lowing. Oh, he wants, As twenty bloodhounds shakes you, !

Instead of any worthy wife at home, strangles you.

A star upon Iiis stage of Eglinton ! Until the oracular shriek shall ooze in
Advise liim that he is not overshrewd froth !

In being so little modest a dropped : At best 'tis not all ease,— at worst too
star hard :

Makes bitter waters, says a book I've A place to stand on is a 'vantage gained,
read,— And here's your tripod. To be plain,
And there's his unread letter.' dear friend.
'
My dear friend,' You're poor, except in what you richly
Lord Howe began . . give;
In haste
tore the phrase.
I You labour for your own bread painful-
'
You mean your friend of Eglinton, or ly,
me ?' Or ere you pour our wine. For art's
sake, pause.'
'
I mean you, you,' he answered with
some fire. I answered slow,— as some wayfaring
*
A happy life means prudent compro- man.
mise : Who feels himself at night too far from
The tare runs through the farmer's gar- home.
nered sheaves Makes steadfast face against the bitter
But though the gleaner's apron holds wind.
pure wheat, ' Is art so less a thing than virtue is,
We count her poorer. Tare with wheat, That artists first must cater for their
we cry. ease
And good with drawbacks. You, you Or ever they make issue past them-
love your art. selves
And, certain of vocation, set j'our soul To generous use? alas, and is it so.
On utterance. Only, in this world . , That we, who would be somewhat clean,
we have made, must sweep
(They say God made it first, but if He Our ways as well as walk them, and no
did friend
'Twas so long since, . . and, since, we Confirm us nobly, —
Leave results to'

have spoiled it so. God,

He scarce would know it, if He looked But you, be clean?' What! 'prudent
this way. compromise
From hells we preach of, with the flames Makes acceptable life,' you say, instead.
blown out,) You, vou. Lord Howe? in things m- —
In this bad, twisted, topsy-turvy world, different, well.
Where all the heaviest wrongs get up- For instance, compromise the wheaten
permost, bread
In this uneven, unfostering England For rye, the meat for lentils, silk for
here. serge,
Where ledger-strokes and sword-strokes And sleep on down, if needs, for sleep
count indeed. on straw ;
 ——
; ; —
AURORA LEIGH. Q9

But there, end compromise. I will not I went.' . . and of a letter yesterday,
bate In which, if 1 should read a page or
One artist-dream on straw or down, my two,
lord, You might feel interest, though you're
Nor pinch my liberal soul, though I be locked of course
poor, In literary toil. — You'll like to hear
Nor cease to love high, though I live Your last book lies at the phalanstery.
thus low.' As judged innocuous for the elder girls
And younger women who still car^e for
So speaking, with less anger in my voice books.
Than sorrow, I rose quickly to depart We all must read, you see, before we
While lie, thrown back upon the noble live :

shame But slowly the ineffable light comes up.

Of such high-stumbling natures, mur- And, as it deepens, drowns the written
mured words. word,
The right words after wrong ones. Ah, So said your cousin, while we stood and
the man felt
Is worthy, but so given to entertain A sunset from his favourite beech-tree
Impossible plans of superhuman life, seat :

He sets his virtues on so raised a shelf. He might have been a poet if he would,
To keep them at the grand millennial But then he saw the higher thing at once
height. And climbed to it. I think he looks well
He has to mount a stool to get at them ; now,
And meantime, lives on quite the com- Has quite got over that unfortunate . .

mon
way. Ah, ah I know it moved you.
. . Ten-
With everybody's morals. der-heart !

As we passed. You took a liking to the wretched girl.

Lord Howe insisting that his friendly Perhaps you thought the marriage suita-
arm ble.
Should oar me across the sparkling Who knows? a poet hankers for ro-
brawling stream mance,
Which swept from room to room, we fell And so on. As for Romney Leigh, 'tis
at once sure
On Lady Waldemar. ' Miss Leigh,' she He never loved her, never. By the —
said. way,
And gave me such a smile, so cold and You have not heard o( her? quite . .

bright. out of sight.

As if siie tried it ina 'tiring glass And out of saving ? lost in every sense ? '

And liked it ;
' all to-night I've strained
at you. She might have gone on talking half-an
As babes at baubles held up out of reach hour,
By spiteful nurses, (' Never snatch,' A.nd I stood still, and cold, and pale, I
they say,) think,
And there you sate, most perfectly shut As a garden-statue a child pelts with
in snow
By good Sir Blaise and clever Mister For pretty pastime. Every now and
Smith, then
And then our dear Lord Howe at last ! I put in ' yes' or '
no,' I scarce, knew
indeed why
I almost snatched. I have a world to The blind man walks wherever the dog
speak pulls,
About your cousin's place in Shropshire, And so I answered. Till Lord Howe
where broke in :

I've been to see his work . . our work, '

What penance takes the wretch who in-
you heard terrupts
 ! ;; —, ; —
AURORA LEIGH.
The talk of charming women ? I, rt And crush that beetle in the leaves.
last, O heart,
Must brave it. Pardon, Lady Walde- At last we shall grow hard too, like the
mar ! rest,
The lady on my arm is tired, unwell, And call it self defence because we are
And loyally I've promised she shall say soft.
Nor harder word this evening, than .
goodnight why
The rest her face speaks for her.' —Then And after all, now, . . should I be
pained
we went.
That Romney Leigh, my cousin, should
espouse
And I breathe large at home. I drop
This Lady Waldemar? And, sav, she
my cloak,
held
Unclasp my girdle, loose the band that
Her newly-blossomed gladness in my
ties
face, . .

IVIy hair . . now could I but uTiloose my 'Twas natural surely, if not generous.
soul
Considering how, when winter held her
We are sepulchered alive in this close
fast.
world,
I helped the frost with mine, and pained
And want more room. her more
The charming woman there
Than she pains me. Pains me but ! —
This reckoning up and writing down her
wherefore pained?
talk
'Tis clear my cousin Romney wants a
Affectsme singularly. How she talked
To pain me woman's spite — You wear
wife,

steel-mail
!
!

So, good !
—
The man's need of the "

woman, here,
A woman takes a housewife from her
Is greater than the woman's of the man.
breast,
And easier served ; for where the man
And plucks the delicatest needle out discerns
As 'twere a rose, and pricks vou care- A sex, (ah, ah, the man can generalise.
fully
Said he) we see but one, ideally
'Neath nails, 'neath eyelids, in your nos-
And really : where we yearn to lose our-
—say,
trils,
selves
A beast would roar so tortured,— but a
And melt like white pearls in another's
man, wine.
A human creature, must not, shall not He seeks to double himself by what he
flinch,
loves,
No, not for shame.
And make his drink more costly by our
vexes after all. What pearls.
Is just that such as she, with such as I,
At board, at bed, at work and holiday,
Knows how to vex. Sweet heaven, she It is not good for man to be alone.
takes me up
And that's his way of thinking, first and
As if she had fingered me and dog-eared last
me And thus my cousin Romney wants a
And spelled me by the fireside half a
wife.
life !

She knows my turns, my feeble points.

—What then ? P>ut then my cousin sets liis dignity
'J"he knowledge of a thing implies the On personal virtue. If he understands
thing; I3y love, like others, self-aggrandise-
Of course, she found that in mc, she saw ment.
that, It is thathe may verily be great
Her pencil underscored this for a fault, r>y doing rightly and kindly. Once he
And I, still ignorant. Shut the book up thought.
—close !
For charitable ends set duly forth
 —

AURORA LEIGH.

In heaven's white judgment-book, to And loves him . . as the sort of woman

marry . . ah, can.
We'll call her name Aurora Leigh, al-
though My loose long hair began to burn and
She's changed since then ! — and once, creep,
for social ends, Alive to the very ends, about my knees :

Poor Marian Erie, my sister Marian I swept it backward as the wind sweeps
Erie, flame.
My woodland sister, sweet Maid Marian, With the passion of my hands. Ah,
Wliose memory moans on in me like tiie Romney laughed
wind One day . . (how full the memories come
Tlirough ill-shut casements, making me up !)
more sad '
—Your Florence fire-flies live on in
Than ever find reasons for.
I Alas, your hair,'
Poor pretty plaintive face, embodied He said, ' It gleams so.' Well, I wrung
ghost. them out.
He finds it easy then, to clap thee off My fire-flies ; made a knot as hard as
From pulling at his sleeve and book and life
pen,^ Of those loose, soft, impracticable curls.
He locks thee out at night into the cold, And then sat down and thought . .

Away from butting with thy horny eyes 'She shall not think
Against his crystal dreams, that now — Her thoughts of me,' —and drew my
he's strong desk and wrote.
To love anew? that Lady Waldemar
Succeeds iny Marian? '
Dear Lady Waldemar, I could noc
speak
After all, why not ? With people round me, nor can sleep to-
He loved not Marian, more than once night
he loved And not speak, after the great nev.-s I
Aurora. If he loves at last that Third, heard
Albeit she prove as slippery as spilt oil Of you and of my cousin. May you
On marble floors, I will not augur him be
111 luck for that. Good love, howe'er Most happy ; and the good he meant
ill-placed. the world.
Is better for a man's soul in the end. Replenish his own life. Say what I
Than if he loved ill what deserves love say.
well. And let my word be sweeter for your
A pagan, kissing for a step of Pan mouth.
The wild-goat's hoof-print oil the loamy As you are j)"'?< . . I only Aurora Leigh.'
down.
Exceeds our modern thinker who turns That's quiet, guarded. Though she hold
back it up
The strata . . granite, limestone, coal Against the light, she'll not see througli
and clay, It more
Concluding coldly with, '
Here's law !
Than lies there to be seen. So much for
Where's God?' pride ;

And now for peace, a litde ! Let me

And then at worse, — if Romney loves stop
her not, All writing back '
Sweet thanks, my
— . .

At worst, if he's incapable of love, sweetest friend.

—
Which may be then indeed, for such a You've made more joyful my great joy
man •itself.'
Incapable of love, she's good enough ;
— No, that's too simple ! she would
For she, at worst too, is a woman still twist it thus,
 — —
;

AURORA LEIGH.

•
My joy would still be as sweet as We poets always have uneasy hearts ;
thyme in drawers. Because our hearts, large-rounded as the
However shut up in the dark and dry ; globe,
But violets, aired and dewed by love like Can turn but one side to the sun at once.
yours, We are used to dip our artist-hands in
Out-smell all thyme : we keep that in gall
our clothes, And potash, trying potentialities
But drop the other down our bosoms Of alternated color, till at last
till We get confused, and wonder for our
They smell like '
. . ah, I see her writing skin
back How nature tinged It first. Well here's —
Justso. She'll make a nosegay of her the true
words. Good flesh -color I recognise my hand.
;

And tie it with blue ribbons at the end Which Romney Leigh may clasp as just
To suit a poet pshaw ;
—
And then we'll have
! a friend's.
And keep his clean.
The call to church the broken, sad, ; And now, my Italy.
bad dream Alas,if we could ride with naked souls
Dreamed out at last ; the marriage-vow And make no noise and pay no price at
complete all,
With the marriage-breakfast; prayinj Iwould have seen thee sooner, Italy,
white gloves.
in For still I have heard thee crying
Drawn off in haste for drinking pagan through my life.
toasts Thou piercing silence of ecstatic graves.
In somewhat stronger wine than any Men call that name !

sipped
By gods suice Bacchus had his way But even a witch to-day
with grapes. Must melt down golden pieces in the
nard
A postscript stops all that and rescues WherewUh to anoint her broomstick ere
me. she rides ;

'
You need not write. I have been over- And poets evermore are scant of gold.
worked. And if they find a piece behind the
And think of leaving London, England door
even. It turns by sunset to a withered leaf.
And hastening to get nearer to the sun The Devil himself scarce trusts his pat-
Where men sleep better. So, adieu.' ented
I fold Gold - making art to any who make
And seal, —and now I'm out of all the rhymes,
coil ; But culls his Faustus from philosophers
I breathe now ; I spring upw.ard like a And not from poets. Leave my Job,' '

branch said God,

A ten-year school-boy with a crooked And so the Devil leaves him without
stick pence,
May pull down to his level in search of And poverty proves plainly special
nuts. grace.
But cannot hold a moment. How we In these new, just, administrative times
twang Men clamour for an order of merit
Back on the blue sky, and assert our Why ?

height. Here's black bread on the table and no

While he stares after ! Now, the won- wine !

der seems At least I am a poet in being poor ;

That I could wrong myself by such a Thank God. I wonder if the manu-

doubt. script
 —

AURORA LEIGH. 105

Of my long poem, if 'twere sold outright. To lose my Proclus. Not for Florence
Would fetch enough to buy me shoes, to even.
go
A-foot, (thrown in, the necessary patch The kissing Judas, Wolff, shall go in-
For the other side the Alps) ? it cannot stead.
be : Who builds us such a royal book as
I fear that I must sell this residue this
Of my father's books; although the To honour a chief-poet, folio-built.
Elzevirs And writes above, The house of No- '

Have fly - leaves over- written by his body :'

hand Who floats in cream, as rich as any

In faded notes as thick and fine and sucked
brown From Juno's breasts, the broad Home-
As cobwebs on a tawny monument ric lines.
Of the Old Greeks coiiferenda hcpc And, while with their spondaic prodi-
cum his — gious mouths
Corrupt e citat —
lege pothis. They lap the lucent margins as babe-
And so on, in the scholar's regal way gods.
Of giving judgment on the parts of Proclaims them bastards. Wolff's an
speech. atheist ;

As ifhe sate on all twelve thrones up- And if the Iliad fell out, as he says.
piled, By mere fortuitous concourse of old
Arraigning Israel. Ay, but books and songs.
notes Conclude as much too for the universe.
Must go together. And this Proclustoo
In these dear quaint contracted Grecian That those Platos
Wolff", : sweep the
types, upper shelves
Fantastically crumpled, like his thoughts As clean as this, and so I am almost
Which would not seem too plain ; you rich.
go round twice Which means, not forced to think of
For one step forward, then you take it being poor
back In sight of ends. To-morrow : no de-
Because you're somewhat giddy ;
lay.
there's the rule wait in Paris till good Carrington
I'll

For Proclus. Ah, I stained this middle Dispose of such, and, having chaflfered
leaf for
With pressmg in't my Florence iris- My book's j:rice with the publisher, di-
bell, rect
Long stalk and all ; my father chided All proceeds to me. Just a line to ask
me His help.
For that stain of blue blood, — I recol- .A.nd now I come, my Italy,
lect My own hills Are you 'ware of me,
The peevish turn his voice took, — ' Sil- my hills.
!

ly girls. How I burn toward you ? do you feel

Who plant their flowers in our philoso- to-night
phy The urgency and yearning of my soul.
To make it fine, and only spoil the As sleeping mothers feel the sucking
book ! babe
Ko more of it, Aurora.' Yes no more — ! And smile ? —Nay, not so much as when
Ah, blame of love, that's sweeter than in heat
allpraise Vain lightnings catch at your inviolate
Of those who love not ! 'tis so lost on tops
me, And tremble while ye are stedfast. Still,
I cannot, in such beggared life, aflFord ye go
 ; ; — —
AURORA LEIGH.

Your own determined, calm, indifferent With those too fiery and impatient
way souls.
Toward sunrise, shade by shade, and They threaten conflagration to the world
light by light And rush with most unscrupulous logic
Of all the grand progression nought left on
out ;
Impossible practice. Set your orators
As if God verily made you for your- To blow upon them with loud windy
selves. mouths
And would not interrupt your life with Through watchword phrases, jest or
ours. sentiment.
Which drives our burley brutal English
mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way
they blow,
SIXTH BOOK. This light French people will not thus
be driven.
The English have a scornful insular way They turn indeed but then they turn
;

Of calling the French light. The lev- upon

Some central pivot of their thought and
Is in the judgment only, wliich yet choice.
stands And veer out by the force of holding
For say a foolish thing but oft enough fast.
(And here's the secret of a hundred — ^That's hard to understand, for En-
creeds. glishmen
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell. Unused to abstract questions, and un-
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing trained
Shall pass at last for absolutely wise. To trace the involutions, valve by valve.
And not with fools exclusively. And so In each orbed bulb-root of a general
We say the French are light, as if we truth.
said And mark what subtly fine integument
The cat mews or the milch-cow gives Divides opposed compartments. Free-
iLs milk :
dom's self
Say rather, cats are milked and milch- Comes concrete to us, to be understood.
cows mew ;
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
For what lightness but inconsequence.
is To suit our ways of thought and reve-
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and rence.
cause. The special form, with us, being still
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet the thing.
light. With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while By mother's birth and grave, by father's
the eye grave
Winks and the heart beats one, to flat- And memory ; let it be, —a poet's heart
ten itself Can swell to a pair of nationalities.
To a wafer on the white speck on a However ill-lodged in a woman's
wall breast.
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim. And so I am strong to love this noble
Is this French people. France,
All idealists This poet of the nations, who dreams on
Tooabsolute and earnest, with them all And wails on (while the household goes
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh ; to wreck)
And still, devouring the safe interval For ever, after some ideal good,
Which nature placed between the Some equal poise of sex, some imvowed
thought and act love
 —— ; ;

AURORA LEIGH.
Inviolate, some spontaneous brother- As Venice on the waters, the sea-swan.
hood. What bosky gardens dropped in close-
Some wealth, that leaves none poor and walled courts
finds none tired, As plums in ladies' laps, who start and
Some freedom of the many that respects laugh :

The wisdom of the few. Heroic What miles of streets that run on after
dreams ! trees.
Sublime, to dream so natural, to wake: ; Still carrying all the necessary shops.
And sad, to use such lofty scaffoldings. Those open caskets with the jewels seen!
Erected for the building of a church. And trade is art, and art's philosophy,
To build instead a brothel or a pris- . . in Paris. There's a .silk, for instance,
on there.
May God save France ! As worth an artist's study for the folds.
And if at last she sighs As that bronze opposite nay, the bronze
!

Her great soul up into a great man's has faults

face, Art's here too artful, —conscious as a
To flush his temples out so gloriously maid
That few dare carp at Caesar for being Who leans to mark her shadow on the
bald. wall
What then 1 — this Caesar represents, not Until she lose a 'vantage in her step.
reigns.
And is no despot, though twice abso- Yet Art walks forward, and knows
lute : where to walk :

This Head has all the people for a The artists also are idealists,
heart Too absolute for nature, logical
This purple's lined with the democ- To austerity in the application of
racy, I'he special theory not a soul content
:

Now let him see to it ! for a rent within To paint a crooked pollard and an ass.
Must leave irreparable rags without. As the English will, because they find
it so

A serious riddle : anywhere

find such And like it somehow. There the old —
Except in France ; and when 'tis found Tuileries
France,
in Is pulling its high cap down on its eyes,
Be sure to read it rightly. So, I mused Confounded, conscience-stricken, and
Up and down, up and down, the ter- amazed
raced streets. By the apparition of a new fair face
The glittering Boulevards, the white In those devouring mirrors. Through
colonnades the grate
Of fair fantastic Paris who wears trees Within the gardens, what a heap of
Like plumes, as if man made them, spire babes.
and tower Swept up like leaves beneath the chest-
As if they had grown by nature, tossing nut trees
up From every street and alley of the town.
Her fountains in the sunshine cf the By ghosts perhaps that blow too bleak
squares, this way
As if in beauty's game she tossed the A-looking for their heads ! Dear pretty
dice. babes,
Or blew the silver down-balls of her I wish them luck to have their ball-play
dreams out
To sow futurity with the seeds of thought Before the next change. Here the air
And count the passage of her festive IS thronged
hours. With statues poised upon their columns
fine.
The city swims ;rdure. beautiful As if to stand a moment were a feat.
 ! ;

AURORA LEIGH.

Against that blue ! What squares The firmaments, the strata, and the
what breathing-room lights,
For a nation that runs fast, — ay, runs Fish, fowl, and beast, and insect, — all
against their trains
The dentist's teeth at the corner ia jialc Of various life caught back upon His
rows, arm.
Which grin at progress in an epigram. Reorganised, and constituted man.
The microcosm,
the adding up of works ;

Within whose fluttering nostrils, then,

I walked the day out, listening to tlic
at last
chink Consummating Himself the Maker sigh-
Of first Napoleon's dry bones i:i his
the
ed.
second grave As some strong winner at the foot race
By victories guarded 'neath the golden sighs
dome Touching the goal.
That caps all Paris like a bubble. 'Shall Humanity is great
These dry bones live,' thought Louis And, if I would not rather p6ur upon
Philippe once. An ounce of common, ugly, human dust.
And lived to know. Herein is argu-
An artisan's palm or a peasant's brow,
ment Unsmooth, ignoble, save to me and God,
For kings and politicians, but still more Than track old Milus to his silver roots.
For poets, who bear buckets to the well And wait on all the changes of the
Of ampler draught. moon
Among the mountain-peaks of Thessaly,
These crowds are very good (Until lier magic crystal round itself
For meditation, (when we are very For many a witch —
to see in) set it down
strong) As weakness, —strength by no means.
Though love of beauty makes us timor- How is this
ous, That men of science, osteologists
And draws us backward from the coarse And surgeons, beat some poets in respect
town-sights —
For nature, count nought common or
To count the daisies upon dappled fi^^.lds, unclean.
And hear the streams bleat on among Spend raptures upon perfect specimens
the hills Of indurated veins, distorted joints.
In innocent and indolent repose ;
Or beautiful new cases of curved spine ;

While still with silken elegiac thoughts While we, we are shocked at nature's
We wind out from us the distracting falling off.
world We dare to shrink back from her warts
And die into the chrysalis of a man. and blains.
And leave the best that may, to come of We will not, when she sneezes, look at
us her.
In some brown moth. I would be bold Not even to say, 'God bless her'?
and bear That's our wrong.
To look into the swarthiest face of things. For that, she will not trust us often with
For God's sake who has made them. Her larger sense of beauty and desire.
But tethers us to a lily or a rose
And bids us diet on the dew inside,
Six days' work ; Left ignorant that the hungry beggar-
The last day shutting 'twixt its dawn boy
and eve, (Who stares unseen against our aksent
The whole work bettered of the pre- eyes,
vious five !
And wonders at the gods that we must
Since God collected and resumed in be.
man To pass so carelessly for the oranges !)
 ' — —

AURORA LEIGH.

Bears yet a breastful of a fellow-world Than if you dressed him in a broad-

To this world, undisparaged, unde- cloth coat
spoiled, And warmed his Sunday potage at your
And (while we scorn him for a flower or fire.
two. Yet Romney leaves me . . .

As being. Heaven help us, less poetical) God what face is that ?
1

Contains himself both flowers and fir- O Romney. O Marian !

maments Walking on the quays

And surging seas and aspectable stars And pulling thoughts to pieces leisurely.
And all that we would push him out of As if I caught at grasses in a field
sight And bit them slow between my absent
In order to see nearer. Let us pray lips.
God's grace to keep God's image in re- And shred them with my hands . .

pute : What face is that ?

That so the poet and philanthropist What a face, what a look, what a like-
(Even I and Romney) may stand side ness Full on mine
!

by side. The sudden blow of it came down, till

Because we both stand face to face with all
men My blood swam, my eyes dazzled.
Contemplating the people in the rough, Then I sprang
Yet each so follow a vocation, his —
And mine.
It was as if a meditative man
walked on, musing with myself Were dreaming out a summer afternoon
I
On life and art, and whether after all And watchmg gnats a-prick upon a
A larger metaphysics might not help pond,
Our physics, a completer poetry
When something floats up suddenly, out
there,
Adjust our daily life and vulgar wants
More fully than the special outside Turns over . . a dead face, known once
alive
plans,
Phalansteries, material institutes,
So old, so new 1 It would be dreadful
The civil conscriptions and lay monas-
now
teries
To lose the sight and keep the doubt of
this.
Preferred by modern thinkers, as they
thought He plunges — ha ! he has lost it in the
splash.
The bread of man indeed made all his
life.
And washing seven times in the Peo- ' I plunged — I tore the crowd up, either
ple'sBaths side.
Were'sovereign for a people's leprosy. And rushed on, — forward, forward . .

Still leavuig out the essential prophet's after her.

word Her? whom?
That comes in power. On which, we A woman sauntered slow in front.
thunder down, Munching an apple, —
she left off
We prophets, poets, —Virtue's in the amazed
luord ! As if I had snatched it : that's not she,
The maker burnt the darkness up witli at least.
His, A man walked arm-linked with a lady
To inaugurate the use of vocal life ;
veiled.
And, plant a poet's word even, deep Both heads dropped closer than the
enough need of talk :

In any man's breast, looking presently They started he forgot her with his ;

For offshoots, you have done more for face.

the man And she, herself, —and clung to him as if
 ; —
io8 AURORA LEIGH.

My look were fatal. Such a stream of O jurists, rhymers, dreamers, what you
folk. please.
And all with cares and business of their We play a weary game of hide and
own ! seek I

I ran the whole quay down against their We shape a figure of our fantasy.
eyes Call nothing something, and run after
No Marian ; nowhere Marian. Almost, it
now, And lose it, lose ourselves too in the
I could call Marian, Marian, with the search.
shriek Till clash against us, comes :\. some-
Of desperate creatures calling for the body
Dead. Who also has lost something and is
Where is she, was she ? was she any- lost.
where ? Philosopher against Philanthropist,
I stood still, breathless, gazing, strain- Academician against poet, man
ing out Against woman, against the living the
In every uncertain distance, till at last, dead,
A gentleman abstracted as myself Then home, with a bad headache and
Came full against me, then resolved the worst jest,
clash
In voluble excuses, obviously — To change the water for my helio-
Some learned member of the Institute tropes
Upon his way there, walking, for his And yellow roses. Paris has such
health, flowers.
AVhile meditating on the last Dis- '
But England, also. 'Twas a yellow
course ;' rose.
Pinching the empty air 'twixt fuiger By that south window of the little
and thumb. house,
From which the snuff being ousted by My cousin Romney gathered with his
that shock. hand
Defiled his snow-white waistcoat duly On all my birthdays for me, save the
pricked last ;

At the button-hole with honourable red And then I .shook the tree too rough, too
—
;

'Madame, your pardon,' there he rough.

swerved from me For roses to stay after.
A metre, as confounded as he had Now, my maps.
heard T must not linger here from Italy
That Dumas would be chosen to fill up Till the last nightingale is tired of song.
The next chair vacant, by his men /« '
And the last fire-fly dies off in the
ns,' maize.
Since when was genius found respecta- My .soul's in haste to leap into the sun
ble ? And scorch and seethe itself to a finer
It pas.ses in its place, indeed, —which mood.
means Which here, in this chill north, is apt to
The seventh floor back, or else the hos- stand
pital : Too stiffly in former moulds.
Revolving pistols are ingenious things.
But prudent men (Academicans are) That face persists.
Scarce keep them in the cupboard next It floats up, it turns over in my mind.
the prunes. As like to Marian, as one dead is like
The same alive. In very deed a face
And so, abandoned to a bitter mirth, And not a fancy, though it vanished so ;
I loitered to my inn. O world, O The small fair face between the darka
world. of hair.
 ! —

AURORA LEIGH.

I uccd to Hken, when I saw her first, . . Not hid so well beneath the scanty
To apoint of moonlit water down a well: shawl,
The low brow, the frank space between I cannot name it now for what it was.
the eyes.
Which always had the brown pathetic A child. Small business has a ca.st-
look away
(Jf a dumb creature who had been beaten Like Marian with that crown of prosper-
once ous wives.
And never since was casj- with the At which the gentlest she grows arro-
world. gant
—
Ah, ah now I remember perfectly And says, '
my child.' Who'll find an
—
Those eyes to-day, how overlarge they emerald ring
seemed, On a beggar's middle finger, and require
As if some patient passionate despair More testimony to convict a thief?
(Like a coal dropt and forgot on tapes- A child's too costly for so mere a wretch ;

try- She filched it somewhere and it means, ;

Which slowly burns a widening circle with her.

out) Instead of honor, blessing, . . merely
Had burnt them larger, larger. And shame
those eyes I cannot write to Romney, Here she is, '

To-day, I do remember, saw me too. Here's Marian found I'll set you on !

As I saw them, with conscious lids her track :

astrain I saw her here, in Paris, and her . .

In recognition. Now a fantasy, child.

A simple shade or image of the brain. She put away your love two years ago.
Is merely passive, does not retro-act. But, plainly, not to starve. You suf-
Is seen, but sees not. fered then ;

And, now that you've forgot her utterly

'Twas a real face. As any Last year's annual in whose place
Perhaps a real Marian. You've planted a thick flowering ever-
Which being so, green,
I ought to write to Romney, Marian's
'
I choose, being kind, to write and tell
here, you this
lie comforted for Marian.' To make you wholly easy^she's not
My pen fell. dead.
My hands struck sharp together as But only . . damned.'
hands do Stop there : I go too fast,
Which hold at nothing. Can I write to I'm cruel like the rest, — in haste to take
him The first stir m the arras for a rat,
A half truth ? can I keep my own soul And set my barking, biting thoughts
blind upoi't.
To the other half, the worse ?
. What
. —A child what then? Suppose a
1

are our souls. neighbour's sick

If still, to run on straight a sober pace And asked her, Marian, carry out my
'

Nor start at every pebble or dead leaf. child

They must wear blinkers, ignore facts, In this Spring air,' — I punish her for
suppress that ?
Six tenths of the road ? Confront the Or round
say, the child should hold her
truth, my
soul the neck
And oh, as truly as that was Marian's For good child-reasons, that he liked it
face, so
The arms of that same Marian clasped And would not leave her —she had win-
a thing ning ways
 ; — — —
AURORA LEIGH.

I brand her therefore that she took the Mathildes, Justines. Victoires, . . or, if 1
child ? sought
Not so. The English Betsis, Saras, by the score.
I will not write to Romney Leigh. They might as well go out into the
For now he's happy, and she may in- — fields
deed To find a speckled bean, that's somehow
—
Be guilty, and the knowledge of her specked.
fault And somewhere in the pod.' — They left
Would draggle his smooth time. But I, me so.
whose days Shall / leave Marian 1 h:ive I dreamed
Are not so fine they cannot bear the a dream ?
rain. — I thank God I have found lier ? I

And who moreover having seen her must say

face '
Thank God,' for finding her, although
Must see it again, . . will see it, by my 'tis true
hopes I find the. world more sad and wicked
Of one day seeing heaven too. The for't.
police But she—
Shall track her, hound her, ferret their I'll write about her, presently ;

own soil My hand's a-tremble as I had just

We'll dig this Paris to catacombs its caught up
But certainly we'll find her, have her My heart to write with, in the place
out, of It.
And save her, if she will or will not At least you'd take these letters to be
child writ
Or no child, — if a child, then one to At sea, in .'^torm ! —
wait now . .

save 1 A simple chance

Did all. I could not sleep last night,
The long weeks passed on without con- and tired
sequence. Of turning on my pillow and harder
As easy find a footstep on the sand thoughts.
The morning after spring-tide, as the Went out at early morning, when the
trace air
Of Marian's feet between the incessant Is delicate with some last starry touch.
surfs To wander through the Market-place of
Of this live flood. She may have Flowers
moved this way, (The prettiest haunt in Paris), and make
But so thestar-fish does, and crosses out sure
The dent of her small shoe. The foiled At worst that there were roses in the
police world
Renounced me ' Could they find a girl
; So \\aidering, musing with the artist's
and child. eye.
No other signalment but a girl and That keeps the shade-side of the thing
child ? it loves,
No data shown but noticeable eyes Half-absent, whole-observing, while the
And hair in masses, low upon the brow. crowd
As if it were an iron crown and pressed ? Of young vivacious and black-braided
Friends heighten, and suppose they heads
specify : Dipped, quick as finches in a blossomed
Why, girls with hair and eyes, are every- tree.
where Among the nosegays, cheapening this
In Paris ; they had turned me up in and that
vain In such a cheerful twitter of rapid
No Marian Erie indeed, but certainly speech,
 — — ' ' —
AURORA LEIGH.
My heart leapt in me, startled by a voice I thank you. You are good as heaven
That slowly, faintly, with long breaths Itself—
that marked As good as one I knew before Fare- , .

The interval between the wish and well

word,
!

I loosed her hands. In his name, no — '

Inquired in stranger's French, Would '

farewell !'
that be much, (She stood as if I held her,) "for his
That branch of flowering mountain- sake,
gorse ?
— ' So much '?
For his sake, Romney's by the good he !

Too much for me, then !

' turnmg the meant.
face round Ay, always ! by the love he pressed for
So close upon me, that I felt the sigh once,
It turned with. And by the grief, reproach, abandon-
Marian, Marian
' ! '
— face to face ment.
'
Marian 1 find you.
! Shall I let you He took in change '
. .

'
He, Romney ! who grieved him ?
I held her two slight wrists with both Who had the heart for'tV what reproach
my
hands ; touched him ?
'
Ah Marian, Marian, can I let you go ?' Be merciful, —speak quickly.'
— She fluttered from me like a cycla- 'Iherefore come.'
—
'

men. I answered with authority, I think '

As white, which taken in a sudden wind We dare to speak such things and name
Beats on against the palisade. Let — *
such names
pass,' In the open squares of Paris !

She said at last. ' I will not,' I replied ;

'
1 lost my Marian many days.
sister Not a word
And sought her ever in my walks and She said, but in a gentle humbled way,
prayers. (As one who had forgot herself in grief)
And now I find her ... do we throw Turned round and followed closely
away where I went.
The bread we worked and prayed for, As if i led her by a narrow plank
crumble it Across devouring waters, step by step,
And drop it, .to do even so by thee
.
And so in silence we walked on a mile.
Whom still I've hungered after more
than bread. And then she stopped her face was
— Can
:

My sister Marian ? I hurt thee, white as wax.

dear? '
We go much further ?'

Then why distrust me ? Never tremble '

You are ill,' I asked,
so. '
Or tired V
Come with me rather where we'll talk She looked the whiter for her smile.
and live '
There's one at home,' she said, has '

And none shall vex us. I've a home for need of me

you
And me and no one else '
By this time, —and I must not let him
. . .
wait.'
She shook her head.
'
A home for you and me and no one '
Not even,' I asked, ' to hear of Romney
else Leigh ?'
Ill-suitsone of us I prefer to such, : '
Not even,' she said, '
to hear of Mister
A, roof of grass on which a flower might Leigh.'
spring.
Less costly to me than the cheapest '
In that case,' I resumed, '
I go with
here ;
you.
And yet I could not, at this hour, afford And we can talk the same thing there
A like home even. That you oft'er yours, as here.
 —
AURORA LEIGH.

None waits for me : I have my day to Like an untamed hawk upon a strong
spend.' man's fist.
That beats its wings and tries to get
Her lips moved in a spasm without a away.
sound, And cannot choose be satisfied so soon
But then she spoke. ' It shall be as you To hop through court - yards with iu
please right foot tied.
And better so
;
— 'tis shorter seen than The vintage plains and pastoral hills in
told. sight.
And though you will not find inc worth
your pains, We stopped beside a house too high and
That even, may be worth some pains to
slim
know To stand there by itself, but waiting till

For one as good as you are.' Five others, two on this side, three on
that,
Then she led Should grow up from the sullen second
The way, and I, as by a narrow plank floor
Across devouring waters, followed her, They pause at now, to build it to a row.
Stepping by her footsteps, breathing by The upper windows partly were un-
her breath. glazed
And holding her with eyes that would Meantime, — a meagre, unripe house : a
not slip ;
line
And so, without a word, we walked a Of rigid poplars elbowed behind. it
mile. And just in front, beyond the lime and
And .so, another mile, without a word. bricks
That wronged the grass between it and
Until the peopled streets being all dis- the road,
missed, A great acacia with its slender trunk
House-rows fwid groups all scattered And overpoise of multitudinous leaves,
like a flock. (In which a hundred fields might spill
The market-gardens thickened, and the their dew
long And intense verdure, yet find room
White walls beyond, like spiders' out- enough)
side threads. Stood reconciling all the place with
Stretched, feeling blindly toward the green.
country-fields
Through half-built habitations and half- I followed up the stair upon her step.
dug She hurried upward, shot across a face.
Foundations, — intervals of trenchant A woman's on the landing, How now, — '

chalk, now !

That bit betwixt the grassy uneven Is no one to have holidays but you?
turfs You said an hour, and staid three hours,
Where goats (vine tendrils trailing from Ithink.
their mouths) And Julie waiting for your betters here ?
Stood perched on edges of the cellarage Why if he had waked, he might have
Which should be, staring as about to waked, for me.'
leap — Just murmuring an e.xcusing word she
To find their coming Bacchus. All the passed
place And shut the rest out with the chamber-
Seemed less a cultivation than a waste : door.
Men work here, only, scarce begin to — Myself shut in beside her.
live : 'Twas a room
All's sad, the country struggling with Scarce larger than a grave, and near as
the town, bare ;
 —— — —

AURORA LEIGH. JX3

Two stools, a pallet-bed I saw the ; For oh, that it should take such inno-
room : cence
A mouse could find no sort of shelter To prove just guilt, I thought, and stood
in't, there dumb ;

I\Iuch less a greater secret ; curtain- The light upon his eyelids pricked them
less, wide,
The window fixed you with its torturing And, staring out at us with all their
eye. blue.
Defying you to take a step apart As half perplexed between the angel-
If peradventure you would hide a thing. hood
I saw the whole room, I and Marian He had been away to visit in his .sleep.

Alone.
there And our most mortal presence,
ally
—gradu-
Alone She threw her bonnet
? off". He saw his mother's face, accepting it
Then sighing as 'twere sighmg the last In change for heaven itself, with such a
time. smile
Approached the bed, and drew a shawl As might have well been learnt there,
away : never moved.
You could not peel a fruit you f jar to But smiled on in a drowse of ecstasy.
bruise So happy (half with her and lialf with
More calmly and more carefully ilian heaven)
so, He could not have the trouble to bo
Nor would yoa find within, a rosier stirred.
flushed But smiled and lay there. Like a rose,
Pomegranate 1 said :

There he lay upon liis back. As red and still indeed as any rose,
The yearling creature, warm and moist That blows in all the silence of its
with life leaves.
To the bottom of his dimples, — to llic Content, in blowing, to fulfil its life.
ends
Of the lovely tumbled curls abor.t liis She leaned above him (drinking him a<
face ; wine)
For since he had been covered over- In that extremity of love, 'twill pass
much For agony or rapture, seeing that love
To keep him from the light glare, bot'.x Includes the whole of nature, rounding
his clieeks it

V/ere hot and scarlet a> the first live To love no more,
. . —since more can
rose never be
The shepherd's heart-blood ebbed away Than just love. Self-forgot, cast out of
into. self.
The faster for his love. And Ijvc v/as And drowning iu the transport of the
here sight.
As instant : in the pvetty baby-mouth. Her whole pale passionate face, mouth,
Shut close as if for dreaming that it forehead, eyes.
sucked ; One gaze, she stood then, slowly as he :

The little naked feet drawn up the way smiled.

Of nestled birdlings everything so ; She smiled too, slowly, smiling unaware.
soft And drawing from his countenance to
And tender, — to the tiny holdfast hers
hands. A fainter red, as if she watched a flame
Which, closing on the finger into sleep. And stood in it a-glow. ' beauti- How
Had kept the mould oft. ful.'
While we stood there dumb. Said she.
 "4 AURORA LEIGH.

I answered, trying to be cold. '

Oh,' .she smiled
(Must sin have compensations, was my With bitter patience, '
the child takes
thought, his chance.
As if it were a holy thing like grief? Not much worse off in being fatherless
And isa woman to be fooled aside Than I was, fathered. He will say, be-
From putting vice down, with that wo- like.
man's toy His mother was the saddest creature
A baby ?) '
Ay ! the child is well born ;

enough,' He'll say his mother lived so contrary

I answered. ' If his mother's palms are To joy, that even the kindest, seeing her.
clean Grew sometimes almost cruel he'll not :

They need be glad of course in clasping say

such : She flew contrarious in the face of God
But if not, — would rather lay my hand.
I With bat-wings of her vices. Stole my
Were I she, —on God's brazen altar-bars child,—
Red-hot with burning sacrificial lambs, My flower of earth, my only flower on
Than touch the sacred curls of such a earth.
child.' My sweet, my beauty !' . . Up she
snatched the child.
She plunged her fingers in his clustering And, breaking on him in a storm of
locks.
tears,
As one who would not be afraid of fire ;
Drew out her long sobs from their shiver-
And then with indrawn steady utter- ing roots.
ance said, Until he took it for a game, and stretch-
* My lamb, my lamb although, through !
ed
such as thou. His feet and flapped his eager arms like
The most unclean got courage and ap- wings.
proach And crowed and gurgled through his
—
To God, once, now they cannot, even infant laugh :

with men. '

Mine, mine,' she said ;
'
I have as sure
Find grace enough for pity and gentle a right
words.' As any glad proud mother in the world.

'My Marian,' I made answer, grave Who sets her darling down to cut his
and sad, teeth
' The priest who stole a lamb to offer Upon her church-ring. If she talks of
him, law.
"Was still a thief. And if a woman steals I talk of law ! I claim my mother-dues
(Through God's own barrier-hedges of By law, — the law which now is para-
true love. mount ;

Which fence out license in securing The common law, by which the poor
love) and weak
A child like this, that smiles so in her Are trodden underfoot by vicious men.
face. And loathed for ever after by the good.
Let pass I did not filch I found
She is no mother but a kidnapper. ! . .

the child.'
And he's a dismal orphan not a son . .
;

Whom her kisses cannot feed so full

all
He will not miss hereafter a pure home '
You found him, Marian V
To live in, a pure heart to lean against, '
Ay, I found him where
A pure good mother's name and mem- I found my cur.se, — in the gutter, with
ory my shame !

To hope by, when the world grows thick What have you, any of you, to say to
and bad. that,
And he feels out for virtue.' Who all are happj'.and sit safe and high
 —
! — —
AURORA LEIGH.

And never spoke before to arraign my RIy cowslip-ball ! we've done with that
right cross face.
To grief itself ? What, what, . . being And here's the face come back you
beaten down used to like.
By hoofs of maddened oxen into a ditch. Ah, ah ! likes me.
he laughs Ah, ! he
Half-dead, whole mangled, . when a girl Miss Leigh,
at last. You're great and pure; but were you
Breathes, sees and finds there, bed-
. . purer still,
ded in her flesh, As if you had walked, we'll say, no
Because of the extremity of the shock. otherwhere
Some com of price and when a ! . . Than up and down the new Jerusalem,
good man comes And held your trailing lutestring up
(That's God the best men are not quite
! yourself
as good) From brushing the twelve stones, for
And says, ' I dropped the coin there : fear of some
take you.
it Small speck as little as a needle-prick.
And keep it,— it shall pay you for. the White stitched on white, —
the child
would keep to me
You
loss,'
all put up your finger
— ' See the Would choose his poor lost Marian, like
thief me best,
'
Observe that precious thing she has And, though you stretched your arms,
come to filch : cry back and cling.
'
How bad those girls are !'
Oh, my As we do when God says it's time to die

flower, my pet, And bids us go up higher. Leave us,

I dare forget have you in my arms.
I then ;

And fly oft" to be angry with the world. We two are happy. Does he push me off?
And fright you, hurt you with my tem- He's satisfied with me, as I with him.'
pers, till

You double up your lip? Why, that '

So soft to one, so hard to others Nay,' !

indeed 1 cried, more angry that she melted me,

Is bad a naughty mother
: ! '
We make henceforth a cushion of our
'
You mistake,' faults
I interrupted, ' If I loved you not, To sit and practise easy virtues on ?
I should not, Marian, certainly be here. Ithought a child was given to sanctify"
—
A woman, set her in the sight of all
* Alas,' she said, you are so very good
' ;
The clear- eyed heavens, a chosen min-
And yet I wish indeed you had never ister
come To do their business and lead spirits up
To make me sob until I vex the child. The difficult blue heights. A woman
It is not wholesome for these pleasure- lives.
plats Not bettered, quickened toward the
To be so "early watered by our brine. truth and good
And then, who knows ? he may not like Through being a mother ? then she's . .

me now none although !

As well, perhaps, as ere he saw me fret. She damps her baby's cheeks by kissing
One's ugly fretting ! he has eyes the them.
'

same As we kill roses

As angels,but he cannot see as deep. Kill O Christ,' she said.

'
!

And so I've kept for ever in his sight And turned her wild sad face from side
A sort of smile to please him, as you to side
place With most despairing wonder in it
A green thing from the garden in a cup. What,'

To make believe it grows there Look, What have you in your souls against me
roy sweet, then,
 — —
ii6 AURORA LEIGH.

All ofyou ? am I wicked, do you think ? There she paused, and sighed,
God knows me, trusts mc with a child ; With such a sigh as drops from agony
but you, To exhaustion, sighing while she let—
Vou think me really wicked V the babe
'Complaisant' Slide down upon her bosom from her
I answered softly, to a wrong you've '
arms.
done. And all her face's light fell after him.
Because of certain profits, which i.i — Like a torch quenched in falling.
wrong
Beyond the first wrong, Marian. When Down she sank.
you left And he sate upon the bedside with the
The pure place and the noble heart, to child.
take But L convicted, broken utterly.
The hand of a seducer' . . With woman's passion clung about her
Whom ? whose hand waist.
I took the hand of
'

. .
?

And kissed her hair and eyes, I have

— '

Springing up erect been wrong.

And lifting up the child at full arms' Sweet Marian (weeping in a tender
' . .

length. rage)
As if to bear him like an oriflamme 'Sweet holy Marian And now, iNIa- !

Unconquerable to armies of reproach, rian, now,

•
By him' she said, my child's head ' I'll use your oath although my lips are
and its curls. hard,
By those blue eyes no woman born could And by the child, my Marian, by the
dare child,
A perjury on, I make my mother's oath. I'll swear his mother shall be innocent
That if I left that Heart, to lighten it, Before my conscience, as in the open
The blood of mine was still, except for Book
grief! Of Him who reads our judgment. In-
No cleaner maid than I was, took a step nocent,
To a sadder end, no matron-mother — My sister ! let the night be ne'er so
now dark,
Looks backward to he>: early maiden- The moon is surely somewhere in the
hood
Through chaster pulses. I speak stead- So surely your whiteness to be foun
is !

ily : Through all dark facts. But pardon,

And if I lie so, . . if, being fouled in pardon me.
will And smile a little, Marian, for the —
And paltered with in soul \)y devil's child.
lust, If not for me, my sister.'
I dared to bid this angel take part, my . . The poor lip
Would God sit qyiet, let us think, in Just motioned for the smile and let it
heaven. S° =
.

Nor strike me dumb with thunder ? Vet And then, with scarce a stirring of the
I speak : mouth,
He clears me therefore. What, 'se- As if a statue spoke that could not
duced' 's your word ? breathe.
Do wolves seduce a waiidering fawn in But spoke on calm between its marble
France? lips,
Do eagles, who have pinched a lamb '
I'm glad, I'm very glad you clear me
with claws. so.
Seduce it into carrion ? So with me. Ishould be sorry that you set me down
I was not ever, as you say, seduced, With harlots, or with even a better
But simply, murdered.*
 — — '

AURORA LEIGH. "7

Which misbecomes his mother. For I thinkwould not hurt or trouble me.
it
the rest Here's proof, dear lady, in the mark- —
I am not on a level with your love. et-place
Nor ever vjas, you know, —but now am But now, you promised me to say a
worse. word
Because that world of yours has dealt About a . . friend, who once, long years
with me ago.
As when the hard sea bites and chews a Took God's place toward me, when He
stone leans and loves
And changes the first form of it. I've And does not thunder, . . whom at last
marked I left.
A shore of pebbles bitten to one shape As all of us leave God. You thought
From all the various life of madre- perhaps
pores ;
I seemed to care for hearing of that
And so, that little stone, called Marian friend ?
Erie, Now, judge me ! we have sate here half
Picked up and dropped by you another an hour
friend. And talked together of the child and
Was ground and tortured by the inces- me.
sant sea And not asked as much as, What's
1 '

And bruised from what she was, the thing

changed ! death's a change. You had to tell me of the friend the . .

And she, I said, was murdered ; Ma- friend ?

rian's dead. He's sad, I think you said, he's sick —
What can you do with people when perhaps ?
they are dead. 'Tisnought to Marian if he's sad or sick.
But, if you are pious, sing a hymn and Another would have crawled beside
your foot
Or, if you are tender, heave a sigh and And prayed your words out. Why, a
go. beast, a dog,
But go by all means, —and permit the A starved cat, if he had fed it once with
grass milk.
To keep its green feud up 'twixt them Would show less hardness. But I'm
and you ? dead, you see,
Then leave me, — let me rest. I'm And that explains it.'
dead, I say. Poor, poor thing, .she spoke
And if, to save the child from death as And shook her head, as white and calm
well. as frost
The mother in me has survived the Or days too cold for raining any more.
rest, But still with such a face, so much
AVhy, that's God's miracle you must not alive,
tax, I could not choose but take it on my
I'm not less dead for that : I'm nothing arm
more And stroke the placid patience of its
But just a mother. Only for the child, cheeks,
I'm warm, and cold, and hungry, and And told my
story out, of Romney
afraid. Leigh,
And smell the flowers a little, and see How, having lost her, sought her, missed
the sun. her still.

And speak still, and am silent, — ^just for He, broken-hearted for himself and her.
him ! Had drawn the curtains of the world
Ipray you therefore to mistake me not. awhile
And treat me haply as I were alive ; As if he had done with morning. Ther«
For though you ran a pin into my soul. I stopped,
 ——

ii8 AVkORA LEIGH.

For when she gasped, and pressed me Nailed high up over a fierce hunter's
with her eyes, fire.
' And now how . . is it with him % tell To spoil the dinner of all tenderer folk
me now,' Come in by chance. Nay, since your
I felt the shame of compensated grief, Marian's dead,
And chose my words with scruple You shall not hang her up, but dig a
slowly stepped hole
Upon the slippery stones set here and And bury her in silence ! ring no bells.'
there
Across the sliding water. Certainly '

As evening empties morning into night. I answered gaily, though my whole

Another morning takes the evening up voice wept ;

With healthful, providential inter-

'
We'll ring the joy-bells, not the fune-
ral-bells.
change ;

And though he thought of her,'

still
Because we have her back, dead or
Yes, she knew
' alive.'

She understood : she had supposed, in- She never answered that, but shook her
deed. head ;

That, as one stops a hole upon a flute, Then low and calm, as one who, safe in
At which a new note comes and shapes heaven.
Shall tell a story of his lower life,
the tune.
Excluding her would bring a worthier Unmoved by shame or anger, —so she
in.
spoke.
And, long ere this, that Lady Waldemar She told me she had loved upon her
He loved so knees.
'Loved,'
'
.

I
.

started,
— ' loved her so I
As others pray, more perfectly absorbed
Now tell me '
. .
In the act and inspiration. She felt his
'
I will tell you,' she replied :
For just his uses, not her own at all.
'But since we're taking oaths, you'll His stool, to sit on or put up his foot.
promise first His cup, to fill with wine or vinegar,
That he in England, he, shall never Whichever drink might please him at
learn the chance.
In what a dreadful trap his creature For that should please her always : let

here. him write

Round whose unworthy neck lie had His name upon her. itseemed natural
. ;

It was most precious, standing on his

meant to tie
The honourable ribbon of his name. shelf.
Fell unaware and came to butchery To wait until he chose to lift his hand.
—
Because. I know him, as he takes to —
;

—
Well, well, I saw her then, and must
heart have seen
The grief of every stranger, he's not How bright her life went floating on her
like love,
To banish mine as far as I could choose Like wicks the housewives send afloat
In wishing him most happy. Now he on oil
leaves Which feeds them to a flame that lasts
To think of me, perverse, who went m}- the night.
way.
Unkind, and left him, —but if once he To do good seemed so much liis busi-
knew . . ness.
Ah, then, the sharp nail of my cruel That, having done it, she was fain to
wrong think,
Would fasten me
forever in his sight. Must fill up his capacity for joy.
Like some poor curious bird, through At first she never mooted with herself
each spread wing \i kc was happy, since he made her ro.
 — — :

AUnORA LEIGH. "9

Or he loved her, being so much be-

if Whose fault it was, that she should have
loved : such thoughts ?
Who thinks of asking if the sun is light, None's fault, none's fault. The light
Ol^erving that it lightens? who's so comes, and we see :

bold. But if it were not truly for our eyes.

To question God of His felicity ? There would be nothing seen, for all the
Still less. And thus she took for granted light ;

first. And so with Marian. If she saw at last.

What first of all she should have put to The sense was in her, — Lady Waldemar
proof, Had spoken all in vain else.'
And sinned against him so, but only so. •
O my
heart,
•
What could you hope,' she said, '
of O prophet in my heart,' I cried aloud,
such as she ? '
Then Lady Waldemar spoke !'

You take a kid you like, and turn it out Z>/rfshe speak,'
—
'

In some fair garden though the crea- ; Mused Marian softly * or did she only
ture's fond sign ?
And gentle, it will leap upon the beds Or did she put a word into her face
And break your tulips, bite your tender And look, and so impress you with the
trees : word ?
The wonder would be if such innocence Or leave it in the foldings of her gown.
Spoiled less. A garden is no place for Like rosemary smells, a movement will
kids.' shake out
When no one's conscious ? who shall say
And, by degrees, when he wlio had or guess ?
chosen her. One thing alone was certain, — from the
Brought in his courteous and benignant day
friends The gracious lady paid a visit first.
To spend their goodness on her, which She, Marian, saw things different,— felt
she took distrust
So very gladly, as a part of his, Of all that sheltering roof of circum-
By slow degrees it broke on her slow stance
sense. Her hopes were building into with clay
That she too in that Eden of delight nests
Was out of place, as like the silly kid. Her heart was restless, pacing up and
Still did most mischief where she meant down
most love. And fluttering, like dumb creatures be-
A thought enough to make a woman fore the storms.
mad, Not knowing wherefore she was ill at
(No beast in this but she may well go case.'
mad) '
And still the lady came,' said Marian
That saying 1 am thine to love and use
'
'
Erie,
May blow the plague in her protesting '
Much oftener than he knew it. Mister
breath Leigh.
To the very man for whom she claims to She bade me never tell him slie had
die, come,
That, clinging round his neck, she pulls She liked to love me better than he
him down knew,
And drowns him, —and that, lavishing So very kind was Lady Waldemar :

iier soul, And every time she brought with her

She hales perdition on him. ' So, being more light,
mad,' And every light made sorrow clearer . .

Said Marian . . Well,

'
Ah — who stirred s.ich thoughts, you Ah, well ! we cannot give her blame for
ask? that;
 — —
AURORA LEIGH.

'Twould be the same thing if an angel '

Through contraries of nature. He in-
came. deed
Whose right .should prove our wrong. '
Was set to wed me, to espouse my class,
And every time 'Act out a rash opinion, and, once —
The lady came, she looked more beau- wed,
tiful, '
So just a man and gentle could not
And spoke more like a flute among green choose
trees. '
But make my
life as smooth as mar-
Until at last, as one, whose heart being riage-ring,
sad '
Bespeakme mildly, keep me a cheer-
On Iiearing lovely music, suddenly ful house,
Dissolves in weeping, 1 brake out in '
With servants, brooches, all the flowers
tears I liked.
Before her asked her counsel
. . had . .
'
And pretty dresses, silk the whole year
I erred round
'
In being too happy ? would she set me At which
'

I
. .

stopped her, — ' This for me.

straight? And now
'
For she, being wise and good and born '
—
For hi7n.' She hesitated, truth grew —
above hard ;

'
The flats I had never climbed from, She owned, 'Twas plain a man like '

could perceive Romney Leigh

*
If such as I might grow upon the hills; '
Required a wife more level to himself.
' And whether such poor herb sufficed to 'If day by day he had to bend his
grow height
*
For Romney Leigh to break his fast 'To pick up sympathies, opinions.
upon't, thoughts,
*
Or would he pine on such, or haply '
And interchange the common talk cf
starve V life
She wrapt me in her generous arms at '
Which helps a man to live as well as
once. talk,
And let me dream a moment how it '
His days were heavily taxed. Who
feels buys a stafl"
To have a real mother, like some girls : •To fit the hand, that reaches but the
But when I looked, her face was young- knee?
ay.
er . .
'
He'd feel it bitter to be forced to mi.ss
Youth's too bright not to be a little '
The perfect joy of married suited pairs,
hard, '
Who bursting through the separating
And beauty keeps itself still uppermost. hedge
That's true ! —
though Lady Waldemar '
Of personal dues with that sweet eglan-
was kind. tine
She hurt me, hurt as if the morning-sun '
Of equal love, keep saying, ' So ive
Should smite us on the eyelids when we think,
sleep. "It strikes us, —that's our fancy."
And wake us up with headache. Ay, When I asked
and soon If earnest will, devoted love, employed
Was light enou:h to make my heart In youth like mine, would fail to raise
ache too : me up,
She told me truths I asked for 'twas . . As two strong arms will always raise a
my fault . . child
'That Romney could not love me if he To a fruit hung overhead ? she sighed
would, and sighed . .

* As men call loving ; there arc bloods 'That could not be,' she feared. ' You
that flow take a pink,
'
Together like some rivers and not mix. '
You dig about the roots and water it.
 — — — —

AURORA LEIGH.
• And so improve it to a garden-pink, To light me forwards ? Leaning on my
' But will not change it to a heliotrope, face
'The liind remains. And then, the Her heavy agate eyes which crushed
harder truth my will,
' This Romney Leigh, t.o rr.sh to leap a Slie told me tenderly, (as when men
pale, come
' So bold for conscience, quick for mar- To a bedside to tell people they must
tyrdom, die)
' Would suffer steadily and never flinch, ' She knew of knowledge, ay, of —
' But suffer surely and keenly, when his knowledge knew,
class ' That Romney Leigh had loved Jier for-
• Turned shoulder on him for a shameful merly :

match, '
And she loved Jiim, she might say,
' And set him up as nine-pin in their now
the chance
talk, '
Was past but that, of course,
. . lie
' To bowl him down with jestings.' never guessed,
There, she paused ;
'For something came between them . .

And when I used the pause in doubting something thin

that '
As a cobweb catching every fly of . .

We wronged him after all in what we doubt

feared ' To hold it buzzing at the window-pane
' Suppose such things should never '
And help to dim the daylight. Ah
touch him more man's pride
' In his high conscience (if the thing '
Or woman's — which is greatest ? mort
should be,) averse
' Than, when the queen sits in an upper 'To brushing cobwebs? Well, but she
room, and he
'The horses in the street can spatter '
Remained fast friends ; it seemed not
her!'- more than so,
A moment, hope came, but the lady — '
Because he had bound his hands and
closed could not stir :

The door and nicked the lock and shut ' An honourable man, if somewhat
it out. rash ;

Observing wisely that, ' the tender 'And she, not even for Romney, would
heart she spill
' Which made him over-soft to a lower '
A blot . . as little even as a tear . .

class, '
Upon his marriage-contract not — to
•
Would scarcely fail to make him sensi- gain
tive '
A better joy for two than came by
'
To a higher, —how they thought and that :

what they felt. '

For, though I stood between her heart
and heaven,
' Alas,' alas,' said Marian, rocking slow 'She loved me wholly."
The pretty baby who was near asleep. Did I laugh or curse ?
The eyelids creeping over the blue Ithink I sate there silent, hearing all,
balls,— Ay, hearing double, Marian's tale, at —
She made it clear, too clear I sr.v/ thj — once.
whole ! And Romney 's marriage- vow, I'll keep. '

And yet who knows if I had seen iny to THEE,'

way Which means that woman-serpent. I.J

Straight out of it by looking, though it time

'twas clear, For church now ?
Unless the generous lady, 'ware of this. Lady Waldemar spoke more.'
'

Had set her own house all a-firc for me, Continued Marian, 'but as when a soul
 —— ; — ; —

AURORA LEIGH.
Will pass out through the sweetness of As men upon their death-beds thank
a song last friends
Beyond it, voyaging the uphill road, Who lay the pillow straight it is not :

Even so mine wandered from the things much,

I heard And yet 'tis all of which they are capa-
To those I suffered. It vas afterward ble.
Ishaped the resolution to the act. This lying smoothly in a bed to die.
For many hours wc talked. "What And so, 'twas fixed ; —and so, from day
need to talk ? to day.
The fate was clear and close it ; The woman named came in to visit
touched ray eyes me,'
But the generous lady tried to keep
still
The case afloat, and would not let it go. Just then, the girl stopped speaking,
And argued, struggled upon Marian's sate erect,
side, And stared at me as if I had been a
AVhich was not Romney's ! though she ghost,
little knew (Perhaps I looked as white as any
What ugly monster would take up the ghost)
end, With large-eyed horror. ' Does God
AVhat griping death within the drown- make,' she said,
ing death 'All sorts of creatures really, do you
Was ready to complete my sum of think ?
death.' Or is it that the Devil slavers them
I —
thought, Perhaps he's sliding now So excellently, that we come to doubt
the ring Who's stronger. He who makes, or he
Upon that woman's fmger. . who mars?
I never liked the woman's face or voice
She went on : Or ways : it made me blush to look at
The lady, failing to prevail her way, her ;

Upgathered my torn wishes from tho It made me tremble if she touched my

ground hand ;

And pieced them with licr strong bene- And when she spoke a fondling word
volence ; I shrank
And, as I thought I could breathe freer As if one hated me v/ho had power to
air hurt
Away from England, going vv^ithoi-.t vVnd every time she came, my veins ran
pause, cold
—
V/ithout farewell, ^jur.t breaking willi As somebody were walking on my
a jerk grave.
The blossomed olTshootfroin my thorny At last I spoke to Lady Waldemar :

life, •
Could such an one be good to trust ?'

She promised kindly to i;rovidc llic asked.I

means. Whereat the ladystroftedmy cheek and
With instant passage to the colonies laughed
And full protection,' would commit ine
straight
Her silver-laugh
laugh.
— (one must be born to

• To one who once had beea her wait- To put such music in it) Foolish girl, '

ing-maid '
Your scattered wits are gathering wool
* And had the customs of the world, in- beyond
tent 'The sheep-walk reaches I — leave the
' On chnnging England for Australia thing to me '

'Herself to carry out her fortune so.' And therefore, half in trust, and half in
For which 1 thanked the Lady Walde- scorn
mar. That I had heart still for another fear
 — : ;

AURORA LEIGH. 123

In such a safe despair, I left the thing. With him who stinks since Friday.
' The rest is short. 1 was obedient '
But suppose
I wrote my letter which delivered /;/;« To go down with one's soul into the
From Marian to his own prosperities, grave,
And followed that bad guide. The To go down half dead, half alive, I say.
lady ?— hush, And wake up with corruption, cheek . .

I never blame the lady. Ladies who to cheek

high, however willing to look down,
•'Sit With him who stinks since Friday 1

Will scarce see lower than their dainty There it is,

feet : And that's the horror oft, Miss Leigh.

And Lady Waldemar saw less than I, '
You feel 'i

With what a Devil's daughter I went You understand ? — no, do not look .-\t

forth me.
Along the swine's road, down the preci- But understand. The blank, blind,
pice. weary way
In such a curl of hell-foam caught and Which led . . where'er it led . . away at
choked. least ;

No shriek of soul in anguish could pierce The shifted ship . . to Sydney or to

through France,
To some help. They say there's
fetch Still bound, wherever else, to another
help in heaven land ;

For all such cries. But if one cries from The swooning sickness on the dismal
hell . . . sea.
What then —the heavens are deaf upon
? Theforeign shore, the shameful house,
that side. the night.
'
A woman hear mc, — nic make
. . let it The feeble blood, the heavy-headed
plain, grief, ...
A woman . . not a monster . . botli l;cr No need to bring their damnable drug-
breasts ged cup.
Made right to suckle Isabes . . d\c took And yet they brought it. Hell's eo
me off , prodigal
A woman also, young and ignorant Of devil's gifts . . . hunts liberally in
And heavy with my grief, my two poor packs.
eyes Will kill no poor small creature of the
Near washed away with weeping, till
j
wild s
the trees. But fifty red wide throats must smoke
The blessed unaccustomcil trees and I at it.

fields I
As HIS at mc . . when waking up at
Ran either side the train like stranger last . .

dogs I told you that I waked up in the grave.

Unworthy of any notice, —took mc off.
So dull, so blind, so only half alive. '
Enough so ! — it is plain enough so.
Not seeing by what road, nor by what True,
ship. We wretches cannct tell out all oi:r
Nor toward what place, nor to v.lir.t end wrong
of all. Without offence to decent happy folk.
Men carry a corpse thus, — past the doer- Iknow that we must scrupulously hint
way, past With half-words, delicate reserves, the
The garden-gate, the children's play- thing
ground, up Which no one scrupled we should feci
The green lane, —
then they leave it in in full.
the pit, Let pass the rest, th.en ; cnly L-r.vc rr.y
I'o sleep and find corruption, cheek to oath
cheek j
L^pon this sleeping child — ma:-.';; violence
 AURORA LEIGH.
Not man s seduction, made me vhat I How heavj-- it seemed ! as heavy as a
am. stone ;

As lost as . . I told hhn should be lost:

I A woman has been strangled with less
When mothers fail us, can we help our- weight :

selves ? I threw it in a ditch to keep it clean

That's fatal ! —And you call it being And ease my breath a little, when none
lost, looked ;

That down came next day's noon and I did not need such safeguards brutal : —
caught me there men
Half gibberaig and half raving on tlic Stopped short. Miss Leigh, in insult,
floor, when they had seen
And wondering what had happened ir) —
My face, I must have had an awfr.l
in heaven, look.
That suns should dare to shine when And so I lived : the weeks passed on,
God himself —Ilived.
Was certainly abolished. 'Twas living my old tramp-hfe o'er
'
I was mad. again,
How many weeks, I know not, —many But, this time, in a dream, and hunted
weeks. round
1 think they let me go, when I was mad, By some prodigious Dream-fear at my
They feared my eyes and loosed me, r.s back,
boys might Which ended 3^et : my brain cleared
A mad dog which they had tortured. presently
Up and down And there I sate, one evening, by the
I went by road and village, over tracts road,
Of open foreign country, large and I, Marian Erie, myself, alone, imdone.
strange. Facing a sunset low upon the flats
Crossed everywhere by long thin pop- As if It were the finish of all time,
lar-lines The great red stone upon my sepulchre.
Like fingers of some ghastly .skeleton Which angels were too weak to roll
Hand away.
Through sunlight and through moon-
evermore
light
Pushed out from hell itself to pluck mc
back,
And resolute to get me, slow and sure ;
SEVENTH BOOK.
While every roadside Christ upon his
cross 1 HE woman's motive ? shall we daub
Hung reddening through his gory ourselves
wounds at me. With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft
And shook his nails in anger and came clay
down And easily explored. She had the
To follow a mile after, wading up means.
The low vines and green wheat, crying The monies, by the lady's liberal grace.
'
Take the girl ! In for that Australian scheme
trust
'She's none of mine from henceforth.' and mc,
Then I knew Which so, that she might clutch with
(But this is somewhat dimmer than the both her hands
rest) And chink to her naughty uses undis-
The charitable peasants gave me bread turbed ,

And leave to sleep in .straw and twice : She served me (after all it was not
the^ tied. strange ;

At parting, Mary's image round my 'Twas only what my mother would

nick- have done)
 AURORA LEIGH.

A motherly, right damnable good turn. But clenched her brows, and clipped me
with her eyes
As if a viper, with a pair of tongs.
'
Well, after. There are nettles every- Too far for any touch, yet near enough
where.
But smooth green grasses are more com-
To view the writhing creature, — then at
last,
mon still ; '
Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's
The blue of heaven is larger than the name,
cloud ; '
Thou Marian ; thou'rt no reputable
A miller'swife at Clidiy took me in girl,
And spent her pity on me, made me — '
Although sufficient dull for twenty
calm samts 1

And merely very reasonably sad. '

I think thou mock'st me and my
She found me a servant's place in Paris, house,'
where '
Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,
I tried to take a cast-ofF life again. '
Thou mask of saintship.'
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, '
Could I answer her ?
stands up The light broke in so : it meant that
To let them charge him with another then, that ?
pack. I had not thought of that, in all my
thoughts.
A few months, so. My mistress, young Through all the cold, numb aching of
and light. my brow.
Was easy with me, less for kindness Through all the heaving of impatient
than life
Because she led, herself, an easy time Which threw me on death at intervals,
Betwixt her lover and her looking- through all
glass. The upbreak of the fountains of my
Scarce knowing which way she was heart
praised the most. The rains had swelled too large : it

She felt so pretty and so pleased all day could mean that ?
She could not take the trouble to be Did God make mothers out of victims,
cross. then.
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her And set such pure amens to hideous
shoe. deeds?
Would tap me softly with her slender Why noi; ? He overblows an ugly grave
foot With violets which blossom in the
Still restless with the last night's danc- spring.
ing in't. And / could be a mother in a month 1

And say, Fie, pale-face

'
! are you En- I hope it was not wicked to be glad.
glish girls I lifted up my voice and wept, and
' All graveand silent ? mass-book still, laughed,
and Lent ? To heaven, not her, until it tore my
' And first- communion pallor on your throat.
cheeks, '
Confess, confess !' what was there to
' Worn past the time for't ? little fool, con fess,
be gay E.Kcept man's cruelty, except my wrong ?
'
!

At which she vanished, like a fairy, Except this anguish, or this ecstasy ?
through This shame or glory ? The light woman
A gap of silver laughter. there
'
Came an hour Was small to take it in an acorn-cup :

When all went otherwise. She did not Would take the sea in sooner.
.speak, " Good,' she cried ;
 ;

AURORA LEIGH.

•
Unmarried and a mother, and she I'd rather take the wind-side of the
laughs ! stews
*
These unchaste girls are always impu- Than touch such women with my finger-
dent. end !

' Get out, intriguer ? leave my house and They top the poor street-walker by their
trot : lie.
'
I wonder you should look me in the And look the better for being so much
face, worse :

'
With such a filthy secret.' The devil's most devilish when respecta-
'
Then I rolled ble.
My scanty bundle up and went my way. But you, dear, and your story.'
Washed white with weeping, shudder- '
All the rest
ing head and foot Is here,' she said, and signed upon the
With blind hysteric passion, staggering child.
forth '
I found a mistress-sempstress who was
Heyond those doors. *Twas natural oi kind
course And let me sew in peace among her
She should not ask me where I meant to girls
sleep : And what was better than to draw the
I might sleep well beneath the heavy threads
Seine, Allday and half the night for him and
Like others of my sort ; the bed was laid him ?
For us. But any woman, womanly, And so I lived for him, and so he lives.
Had thought of him who should be in a And. so I know, by this time, God lives
month, too.'
The sinless babe that should be in a She smiled beyond the sun and ended
month, so.
And if by chance he might be warmer And all my soul rose up to take her
housed part
Than underneath such dreary, dripping Against the world's successes, virtues,
eaves.' fames.
'
Come with me, sweetest sister,' I re-
I broke on Marian there. ' Yet she turned,
herself, '
And sit within my house, and do me
A wife, I think, had scandalsof her own, good
A lover not her husband.' From henceforth, thou and thine ye !

Ay,' she said, ' are my own

'
But gold and meal are measured other- From henceforth. I am lonely in the
wise ;
world.
I learnt so much at school,' said Marian And thou art lonely, and the child ii
Erie. half
An orphan. Come, and henceforth —
'
O
crooked world,' I cried, ridiculous ' thou and I
If not so lamentable It's the way ! Being still together will not miss a friend.
With these liglit women of a thrifty Nor he a father, since two mothers shall
vice, Make that up to him. I am journeying

—
My Marian, always hard upon the rent south.
In any sister's virtue while they keep ! And in my Tuscan home I'll find a niche
Their own so darned and patched with And set thee there, my .saint, the chdd
perfidy. and thee.
That, though a rag itself, it looks as well And burn the lights of love before thy
Across a street, in balcony or coach. face.
As any perfect stuff might. For my And ever i'.t thy sweet look cross my-
part, self
 ; — — ! —
AURORA LEI.GH.

From mixing with the world's prosperi- To break in laughter as the sea along
ties ; A melancholy coast, and float up higher.
That so, in gravity and holy calm, In such a laugh, their fatal weeds of
We two may live on toward the truer love !

life.' Ay, fatal, ay. And who shall answer

me
She looked me in the face and answered Fate has not hurried tides ; aiad if to-
not. night
Nor signed she was unworthy, nor gave My letter would not be a night too late.
thanks. An arrow shot into a man that's dead.
But took the sleeping child and held it To prove a vain intention Would I ;

out show
To meet my kiss, as if requiting me The new wife vile, to make the husband
And trusting me at once. And thus at mad ?
once, No, Lamia ! shut the shutters, bar the
I carried him and her to where I lived ;
doors
She's there now, in the little room, From every glimmer on thy serpent-
asleep, skin !

I hear the soft child-breathing through I will not let thy hideous secret out
the door To agonise the man 1 love 1 mean —
And all three of us, at to-morrow's The friend love as friends love.
I . .

break. It is strange.
Pass onward, homeward, to our Italy. To-day while Marion told her story Hke
Oh, Romney Leigh, I have your debts To absorb most listeners, how 1 listened
to pay. chief
And I'll be just and pay them. To a voice not hers, nor yet that ene-
But yourself my's.
To pay your debts is scarcely difficult ;
Nor God's in wrath, but one that . .

'lb buy your life is nearly impossible. mixed with mine

Being sold away to Lamia. My head Long years ago, among the garden-
aches ;
trees.
Icannot see my road along this dark ;
And said to ine, to mc, too, ' Be niy
Nor can I creep and grope, as fits the wife,
dark, Aurora.' It i.-, .'.trangc with what a
For these foot-catching robes of woman- swell
hood : Yearning passion, as a snow of ghosts
A man might walk a little . . but I I Might beat against the impervious doors
He loves of heaven,
The Lamia-woman, —and I, write to I thought, 'Now, if I had been a wo-
him man, such
What stops his marriage, and destroys As God made women, to save men by
his peace, love,
Or what perhaps shall simply trouble By just my
love I might have saved
him, this man.
Until she only need to touch his sleeve And made a nobler poem for the world
With just a finger's tremulous white 'ihan all I have failed in.' But I failed
flame. besides
Saying, ' Ah, —Aurora Leigh ! a pretty In this and
; now he's lost ! througli inc
tale, alone !

'
A very pretty poet can guess
! I And, by my onlj' fault, his empty house
' The motive,' — then, to catch his eyes ia Sucks in, at this same hour, a wind from
hers, hell
And vow she does not wonder, —and To keep his hearth cold, make his csise-
they two raent.s creak
 — — —
128 AURORA LEIGH.

Forever to the tune of plague and sin The world's male chivalry has perished
O Romney, O my Romney, O my out.
friend ! But women are knight-errant to the
j\Iy cousin and friend ! m}'- helper, when last ;

1 would, And if Cervantes had been Shakes-

I.Iy love, that might be ! mine ! pear* too.
Why, how one weeps He had made his Don a Donna.
V/hon one':i too weary Were a wit-! So it clear'v
ness by. And so we raiu onr skies blue.
He'd say some folly . . that I loved the Put away
man, This weakness. If, as I have just now
V/ho knows ? . . and make me laugh said,
again for scorn. A man's within me, — let him act him-
At strongest, women are ar. weak in self,
flesh. Ignormg the poor conscious trouble of
As men, at weakest, vilest, are in soul : blood
So, hard for women to keep pace with That's called the woman merely. I \\\\\

men ! write
As well give up at once, sit down at Plain words to F-ngland. if too late, too —
once. late.
And weep as I do. Tears, tears I ".vhy If ill-accounted, then accounted ill ;

we weep ? \ye'll trust the heavens with something.

'Tis worth inquiry? —That we've shamed
a life. ' Dear Lord Howe
Or losta love, or missed a world, per- You'll find a story on another leaf
haps ? —
Of Marion Erie, what noble friend of
By no means. Simply, that we've yours
walked too far. She trusted once, through what flagi-
Or talked too much, or felt the wind i' tious means
the e;xst, To what disastrous ends ; — the story's
And so we weep, as if both body ruid true.
soul I found her wandering on the Paris
Broke up in water — this way. quays,
Poor mixed rags A babe upon her breast, unnatural —
Forsooth we're made of, like those Unseasonable outcast on such snow
other dolls Unthawed to this time. I will ta.v in this
'
That lean with pretty faces Into fairs. Your friendship, friend, if that con- —
It seems as if I had a man in me. victed She
Despising such a woman. Be not his wife yet, to denounce the
Yet indeed. facts
To see a wrong or suffering moves us all To —
himself, but, otherwise, to let them
To undo it, though we should undo our- pass
selves On tip- toe like escaping murderers,
—
;

Ay, all the more, that we imdo our- And tell my cousin merely Marian
selves ;
lives,
That's womanly, past doubt, and not ill- Is found, and finds her home with such
moved. a friend.
A natural movement therefore, on my Myself, Aurora. Which good news,
part. 'She's found,'
To fill the chair up of my cousin's wife, Will help to make him merry in his love:
And save him from a devil's company I send it, tell him, for my marriage gift.
We're all so, — made so, 'tis our wo- — !

As good as orange water for the nerves.

man's trade Or perfumed gloves for headaches,
To suffer torment for another'i case. though aware
 — — ; — —
AURORA LEIGH.

That he, except of love, is scarcely sick: I judged a stranger's portrait and pro-
I mean the new love this time, since . . nounced
last year. Indifferently the type was good or bad :
Such quick forgetting on the part of What matter to me that the lines are
men ! false,
Is any shrewder trick upon the cards I ask you ? Did I ever ink my lips
To enrich them ? pray instruct me how By drawing your name through them as
'tis done. a friend's.
First, clubs, —
and while you look at Or touch your hands as lovers do ?
clubs, 'tis spades thank God
That's prodigy. The lightning sLrikes a I never did and, since you're proved
:

man, so vile.
And when we think to find him dead Ay, vile, I say, —we'll show it presently,
and charred . . I'm not obliged to nurse my friend in
Why, there he is on a sudden, playing you.
pipes Or wash out my own blots, in counting
Beneatli the splintered elm-tree ! Crime yours.
and shame Or even excuse myself to honest souls
And all their hoggery trample your Who seek to touch my lip or clasp my
smooth world. palm,
Nor leave more foot-marks than ' Alas, but Lady
Apollo's Waldemar came first !'
kine. 'Tis true, by this time you may near me
Whose hoofs were muffled by the thiev- so
ing god That you're my cousin's wife. You've
In tamarisk-leaves and myrtle. I'm so gambled deep
sad, As Lucifer, and won the morning-star
So weary and sad to-night, I'm some- —
In that case, and the noble house ot
what sour, Leigh
Forgive me. To be blue and shrew at Must henceforth with its good roof shel-
once. ter j'ou :

Exceeds all toleration e.xcept yours ; Icannot speak and burn you up between
But yours, I know, is infinite. Fare- Those rafters, I who am born a Leigh,
well. nor speak
To-morrow we take train for Italy. And pierce your breast through Rom-
Speak gently of me to your gracious ney's, I who live
wife. His friend and cousin ! — so, you're safe.
As one, however far. shall yet be near You two
In loving wishes to your house.' Mast grow together like the tares and
I sign. wheat
And now I loose my heart upon a page. Till God's great fire. — But make the
This best of time
Lady Waldemar, I'm very glad
'

I never liked you which you knew so ; 'And hide this letter! let it speak n»
well more
You spared me, in your turn, to like me Than I shall, how you tricked poor
much. Marian Erie,
Your liking surely had done worse for And her own love digging her own
set
me grave
Tlian has your loathing, though the last Within her green hope's pretty garden-
appears ground ;

Suffisiently imscrupnloiis to hurt. Ay, sent her forth with some one of
And not afraid of judgment. Now, your sort
there's space To a wicked house in France, —from
Between our faces,—! stand off, as if which she fled
 — — ;

AURORA LEIGH.

With curses in her eyes and cars and I charge you be his faithful and true
throat, wife !

Her whole soul choked with curses, Keep warm his hearth and clean his
mad in short, board, and, when
And madly scouring up and down for He speaks, be quick with your obedi-
weeks , ence ;

The foreign hedgeless country, lone and Still grind your paltry wants and low
lost, desires
So innocent, male-fiends might slink To dust beneath his heel ; though even
within thus.
Remote hell-corners, seeing her so de- The ground must hurt him, — it was writ
filed. of old.
'
Ye shall not yoke together o.x and
'
But you,
bold.
—you are a woman and mor
The
ass/
nobler and ignobler. Ay, but you
To do you justice, you'd not shrink to Shall do your part as well as such ill
face . . things
V/e'U say the unfledged life in the other Can do aught good. You shall not vex
room. him, — mark,
Which, treading down God's corn, you You shall n(?t vex him . . jar him when
trod in sight he's sad.
Of all the dogs, in reach of all the Or cross him when he's eager. Under-
guns,— stand
Ay, Marian's babe, her poor unfathered To trick him with apparent sympathies.
child. Nor let him see thee in the face too
Her yearling
when he wakes
babe !
—you'd face him
And
near
unlearn thy sweet seeming. Pay
And opens up his wonderful blue eyes : the price
You'd meet them and not wink perhaps, Of lies, by being constrained to lie on
nor fear still :

God's triumph in them and supreme 'Tis easy for thy sort : a million more
revenge. Will scarcely damn thee deeper.
When righting His creation's balance- '
Doing which
scale You are very safe from Marian and my-
(You pulled as low as Tophet) to the self ;

top We'll breathe as softly as the infant

Of most celestial innocence. Forme here.
Who am not as bold, I own those infant And stir no dangerous embers. Fail a
eyes point.
Have set me praying. And show our Romney wounded, ill-
'
While they look at heaven. content.
No need of protestation words in my Tormented in his home, . . we open
Against the place you've made them ! mouth.
let them look ! And such a noise will follow the last
They'll do your business with the heav- trump's
ens, be sure :
Will scarcely seem more dreadful, even
I spare you common curses. to you ;

Ponder this. ' You'll have no pipers after : Romney

If haply you're the wife of Romney will
Leigh, (I know him) push you forth as none of
(For which inheritance beyond your his.
birth All other men
declaring it well done ;

You sold that poisonous porridge called While women, even the worst, your
your soul) like, will draw
 ;

AURORA LEIGH.
Their skirts back, not to brush yoa in (As one who laughs and cannot stop
the street himself)
And so I warn you. I'm Aurora . . . All clanking at me, in me. over me.
Leigh.' Until I shrieked a shriek I could not
hear.
The letter written, I felt satislied. And swooned with noise, but still, —
The ashes smouldering in me, were along my swoon.
thrown out Was 'ware the baffled changes back-
By handfuls from me : I had writ my ward rang.
heart Prepared, at each emerging sense, to
And wept my tears, and now was cool beat
and calm ; And crash it out with clangour. I was
And, going straightway to the neigh- weak ;

bouring room, I struggled for the posture of my soul

up the curtains of the bed
I lifted In upright consciousness of place and
Where Marian Erie, the babe upon her time.
arm, But evermore, 'twixt waking and asleep.
Both faces leaned together like a pair Slipped somehow, staggered, caught at
Of folded innocences, self-complete. Marian's eyes
Each smiling from the other, smiled A moment, (it is very good for strength
and slept. To know that some one needs you to be
There seemed no sin, no shame, no strong)
wrath, no grief And so recovered what 1 called myself.
I felt she too had spoken words that For that time.
night, I just knew it when we swept
But softer certainly, and said to God, Above the old roof of Dijon. Lyons
Who laughs in heaven perhaps thatsiich dropped
as I
— A spark into the night, half trodden out
Should make ado for such as she. ' De- Unseen. But presently the winding
'
filed Rhone
I wrote? 'defiled' I thought her? Washed out the moonlight large along
Stoop, his banks.
Stoop lower, Aurora get the angels' ! Which strained their yielding curves
leave out clear and clean
To creep in somewhere, humbly, on —
To hold it, shadow of town and castle
your knees. blurred
Within this I'ound of sequestration Upon the hurrying river. Such an air
white Blew thence upon the forehead, half an —
In which they have wrapt earth's found- air
lings, heaven's elect. And half a water, —that I leaned and
looked ;

The next day we took train to Italy Then, turning back on Marian, smiled to
And fled on southward in the roar of mark
steam. That she looked only on her child, who
The marriage-bells of Romney must be slept.
loud, His face toward the moon too.
To sound so clear through all. I was So we passed
not well ; The open country and the close.
liberal
And truly, though the truth is like a And shot through tunnels, like a light-
jest, ning-wedge
I could not choose but fancy, half the By great Thor-hammers driven througli
way, the rock.
I stood alone i' the belfry, fifty bells Which, quivering through the intestine
Of naked iron, mad with merriment. blackness, splits,
 AURORA LEIGH.

And lets it in at once : the train swept And knows it, holding by a hand lie
in loves.
Athrob with effort, trembling with re- I too sate quiet, satisfied with death.
solve, Sate silent I could hear
: own soul my
The denouncing whistle wailing
fierce speak.
on And had my friend, —for Nature comes
And dying off smothered in the shud- sometimes
dering dark. And says, '
I am ambassador for God.'
While we, self-awed, drew troubled I the wind soft from the land of
felt
breath, oppressed souls ;
As other Titans underneath the pile The old miraculous mountains heaved in
And nightmare of the mountains. Out, sight.
at last. One straining past another along the
To catch the dawn afloat upon the shore.
land ! The way of grand dull Odyssean ghosts
— Hills, slung forth broadly and gauntly Athirst to drink the cool blue wine of
everywhere, seas
Not crampt in their foundations, pushing And stare on voyagers. Peak pushing
wide peak
Rich outspreads of the vineyards and They stood : I watched beyond that
the corn, Tyrian belt
(As if they entertained i' the name of Of intense sea betwixt them and the
France) ship,
While, down their straining sides, Down all their sides the misty olive-
streamed manifest woods
A soil as red as Charlemagne's knightly Dissolving in the weak congenial moon.
blood. And still disclosing some brown convent-
To consecrate the verdure. Some one tower
said That seems as if it grew from some
* Marseilles !
' And lo, the city of Mar- brown rock.
seilles, Or many a
lighted village, dropt
little
With all her ships behind her, and be- Like a fallen star, upon so high a point.
yond. You wonder what can keep it in its
The scimitar of ever-shining sea place
For right-hand use, bared blue against From sliding headlong with the water-
the sky ! falls
Which powder all the myrtle and orange
That night we spent between the purple groves
heaven With spray of silver. Thus my Italy
And purple water I think Marian : Was stealing on us. Genoa broke with
slept ; day ;

Cut I, as a dog a-watch for his master's The Dona's long pale palace striking
foot. out.
Who cannot sleep or eat before he From green hills in advance of the white
hears, town,
I sate upon the deck and watched the A marble dominant to ships.
finger
night. Seen glimmering through the uncertain
And listened through the stars for Italy. gray of dawn.
Those marriage-bells I spoke of, sounded
far. And then I did not think, my Italy,' '

As some child's go-cart in the street be- Ithought, ' my father !' my father's O
neath house.
To a dying man who will not pass the Without his presence Places arc too ! —
day. much
 —

AURORA LEIGH. 133

Or else too little, for immortal man ; Were magnified before us in the pure
Too little, when love's May
o'ergrows Illimitable space and pause of sky,
the ground, Intense as angels' garments blanched
Too much, when that luxuriant robe of with God,
green Less blue and radiant. From the outer
Is rustling to our ankles in dead leaves. wall
^Tis only good to be or here or there, Of the garden, drops the mystic floating
Because we had a dream on such a stone. gray
—
Or this or that, but, once being wholly Of olive-trees, (with interruptions green
waked, From maize and vinej until 'tis caught
And come back to the stone without a and torn
dream. Upon the abrupt black line of cypresses
We trip upon't, —alas ! and hurt our- Which signs the way to Florence. Beau-
selves ;
tiful
Or else it falls on us and grinds us flat, The city lies along the ample vale.
The heaviest grave-stone on this bury- Cathedral, tower and palace, piazza and
ing earth. street.
—But while I stood and mused, a quiet The river trailing like a silver cord
touch Through all, and curling loosely, both
Fell light upon my arm, and, turning before
round, And after, over the broad stretch of land
A pair of moistened eyes convicted Sown whltely up and down its opposite
mine. slopes
' What, Marian is the babe astir so
! With farm and villas.
soon V Many weeks had passed.
' He sleeps,' she answered I have ;
'
No word was —Last, a
granted. letter
crept up thrice. came
And seen you sitting, standing, still at From Vincent Carrington — My dear : '

watch. Miss Leigh,

I thought it did you good till now, but You've been as silent a poet should. "as

now' . . . When any other man is sure to speak.

'
But now,' I said, 'you leave the child If sick, if vexed, if dumb, a silver-piece
alone.' Will split a man's tongue, straight he —
' And you're alone,' she answered, —and speaks and says,
she looked ' Received that cheque.' But you ! . .

As if I too were something. Sweet the I send you funds

help To Paris, and you make no sign at all.
Of one we have helped ! Thanks, Ma- Remember I'm responsible and wait
rian, for such help. A sign of you. Miss Leigh.
'
Meantime your book
I found a house at Florence on the hill Is eloquent as if you were npt dumb ;

Of Bellosguardo. 'Tis a tower that And common ordinarily deaf

critics,
keeps To such fine meanings, and, like deaf
A post of double-observation o'er men, loth
The valley of Arno (holding as a hand To seem deaf, answering chance-wise,
The outspread city) straight toward Fie- yes or no,
sole 'It must be,' or 'it must not,' (most
And Mount Morello and the setting sun. pronounced
The Vallombrosan mountains opposite, When least convinced) pronounced for
Which sunrise fills as full as crystal cups once aright
— and so
:

Turned red to the brim because their You'd think they really heard,
wine was red. they do . .

No sun could die nor yet be born tmseen The burr of three or four who really
By dwellers at my villa morn and eve : hear
 ; —

134 AURORA LEIGH.

And praise your book aright : Fame's But those, —and so I flung them into
smallest trump paint
Is a great ear-trumpet for the deaf as And turned them to the wall's care.
posts. Ay, but now
No other being effective. Fear not, I've let them out, my Kate's I've :

friend ; painted her,

"VVe think here you have written a good (I'll change my style, and leave mytlio-
book. logies)
And you, a
I felt 'twas in you
woman
yet I doubted half :
! It was in you — yes, The whole sweet
my soul
face ; it looks upon

If that od-force of German Reichen- Like a face on water, beget itself,

to
bach A a hanguig cloak
half-length portrait,in
Which still from female finger-tips burns Like one you wore once 'tis a little ;

blue, frayed ;

Could strike out as our masculine white I pressed too for the nude harmonious
heats, arm
To quicken a man. Forgive me. All
my heart But she she'd have her way, and have
. .

Is quick with yours since, just a fortnight her cloak ;

since, Shesaid she could be like you only so.
I read your book and loved it. And would not miss the fortune. Ah,
Will you love '
my friend.
My wife, too ? Here's my secret I might You'll write and say she shall not miss
keep your love
A month more from you ! but I yield it Through meeting mine ? in faith, she
up would not change :

Because I know you'll write the sooner She has your books by heart more than
for't. my words.
Most women (of your height even) And quotes you up against mc till I'm
counting love pushed
Life's only serious business. Who's my Where, three months since, her eyes
wife were nay, in fact. :

That shall be in a month ? you ask ? nor Nought satisfied her but to make mc
guess ? paint
Remember what a pair of topaz eyes Your last book folded ia her dimpled
You once detected, turned against the hands
wall. Instead of my brown palette, as I
That morning in my London paintinc;- wished.
room ;
And, granted me, the presentment had
The face half-sketched, and slurred been newer ;

the eyes alone ! She'd grant me nothing : I've com-

But you you caught them up with
. . pounded for
yours, and said The naming of the wedding-day next
* Kate Ward's eyes, surely.' Now, I — month,
own the truth, And gladly too. 'Tis pretty, to remark
I had thrown them there to keep them How women can love women of your
safe from Jove ;
sort.
They would so naughtily find out their And tie their hearts with love-knots to
way your feet,
To both the heads of both my Danaes, Grow insolent about you against men.
Where just it made me mad to look at And put us down by putting up the lip.
them. As if —
a man, there rtr^such, let us own.
Such eyes ! I could not paint or think of Who —
write not ill, remains a man, poor
eyes wretch.
 — — : ! ;

AL'/^OA'A

While you Write weaker than ! You're right about Lord Howe, I>ord
Aurora Leigh, Howe's a trump
And there'll bo women who believe of And yet, with such in his hand, a man
you like Leigh
(Besides my Kate) that if you walked on May lose, as /le does. There's an end to
sand all,—
You would not leave a foot-print. Yes, even this letter, though this second
Are you put ' sheet
To wonder by my marriage, like poor May find you doubtful. Write a word
Leigh ? for Kate
' Kate Ward !' he said. ' Kate Ward !'
She reads my letters always, like a wife.
he said anew. And if she sees her name, I'll see her
' I thought . . .
'
he said, and stopped, smile
'
I did not think . . .
'
And share the luck. So, bless you,
And then he dropped to silence. friend of two
'
Ah, he's changed. I will not ask you what your feeling is
I had not seen him, you're aware, for At Florence with my pictures. I can hear
long. Your heart a-flutter over the snow-hills :

But went of course. I have not touched And, just to pace the Pitti with you
on this once,
Through all this letter, — consciou.i of I'd give a half-hour of to-morrow's walk
your heart. With Kate . . I think so. Vincent Car-
And writing lightller for the heavy f;\ct. rington.
As clocks are voluble with lead.
How poor, '
The noon was hot ; the air scorched like
To say I'm sorry. Dear Leigh, dearest the sun
Leigh ! And was shut out. The closed persiani
In those old days of Shropshire, pardon
me,
— threw
Their long-scored shadows on my villa-
When he and you fought many a field floor.
of gold And interlined the golden atmosphere
On what you should do, or you should Straight, still, —
across the pictures on the
not do. wall
Make bread or verses, (it just came to The on the console, (of young
statuette
that) Love
I thought you'd one day draw a silken And Psyche made one marble by akiss)
peace The low couch where I leaned, the table
Through a golden ring. I thought so. near.
Foolishly, The vase of lilies Marian pulled last
The event proved, — for you went more night
opposite (Each green leaf and each white leaf
To each other, month by month, and ruled in black
year by year. As if for writing some new text of fate)
Until this happened. God knows best, And the open letter, rested on my knee.
we say. But there, the lines swerved, trembled,
But hoarsely. When the fever took him though I sate
first. Untroubled plainly,
. . reading it . .

Just after I had writ to you in France, again

They tell me Lady Waldemar mixed And three times. Well, he's married ;
drinks that is clear.
And counted grains, like any salaried No wonder that he's married, nor much
nurse. more
Excepting that she wept too. Then That Vincent's therefore '
sorry.' Why,
Lord Howe, of course.
 ; ! —
AURORA LEIGH.

The lady nursed him when he was not From what he is, in his turn. Strain »
well. step
Mixed drinks, —unless nepenthe was the For ever, yet gain no step? Arc we
drink such,
^Twas scarce worth telling. But a man We cannot, with our admirations even.
in love Our tip-toe aspirations, touch a thing
Will see the whole sex in lils mistress' That's higher than wc 1 is all a dismal
hood. flat.
The prettier for its lining of fair rose ;
And God alone above each, —as the sun
Although he catches back and says at O'er level lagunes, to make them shine
last, and stink,
* I m sorry.' Sorry. Lady Waldemar Laying stress upon us with immediate
At prettiest, imder the said hood, pre- flame.
served While we respond with our miasmal fog.
From such a light as I could hold to her And call it mounting higher because we
face grow
To flare its ugly wrinkles out to shame. More highly fatal ?

Is scarce a wife for Romney, as friends Tush, Aurora Leigh !

judge, You wear your sackcloth looped in

Aurora Leigh, or Vincent Carrington, Caesar'sway.
That's plain. And if he's conscious of '
And brag your failings as mankind's. Be
my heart' . . still.

It may be natural, though the phrase is There h what's higher, in this very
strong world.
(One's apt to use strong phrases, being Than you can live, or catch at. Stand
in love) aside.
And even that stuff of ' fields of gold,' And look at others —
instance little Kate !
gold rings,'
' She'll make a perfect wife for Carrington.
And what he thought,' poor Vincent
' She always has been looking round the
what he thought,' ' earth
May never mean enough to ruffle me. For something good and green to alight
—Why, this room stifles. Better bum upon
than choke : And nestle into, with those soft-winged
Best have air. air, although it comes with eyes
fire. Subsiding now beneath his manly hand
Throw open blinds and windows to the 'Twixt trembling lids of inexpressive
noon joy :

And take a blister on my brow instead I will not scorn her, after all, too much.
Of this dead weight! best, perfectly be That so much she should love me. A
stimned wise man
By those insufferable cicale, sick Can pluck a leaf, and find a lecture in't ;
And hoarse with rapture of the summer And L too, God has made me, Fve
. . —
heat. a heart
That sing like poets, till their hearts That's capable of worship, love and loss ;

break, sing . . We say the same of Shakspeare's. I'll

Till men say, ' It's too tedious.' be meek,
Books succeed. And learn to reverence, even this poor
And lives fail. Do
it so, at last ? I feel myself.
Kate loves a worn-out cloak for being
like mine, The book, too —pass it. ' A good book,'
While I live self-despised for being my- says he,
self, ' And you a woman.' I had laughed at
And yearn toward some one else, who that.
yearns away But long since. I'm a woman, — it is true ;
 ! — ; ;

AURORA LEIGH.
Alas, and woe to us, when we feel it Both halves. Without the spiritual, ob-
most serve.
Then, least care have we for the crowns The natural's impossible ; no form,
and goals No motion ! Without sensuous, spirit-
And compliments on writing our good ual
books. Is inappreciable ; —no beauty or power :

And in this twofold sphere the twofold

The book has some truth in it, I believe : man
And truth outlives pain, as the soul does (And still the artist Is intensely a man)
life. Holds firmly by the natural, to reach
I know we talk our Phsedons to the end The spiritual beyond it, fixes still —
Through all the dismal faces that we The type with mortal vision, to pierce
make, through.
O'er-wrinkled with dishonoring agony With eyes immortal, to the antetype
From decomposing drugs. I have writ- Some call the ideal, —better called the
ten truth, real.
And I a woman
feebly, partially.
; Andcertain to be called so presently
Inaptly in presentation, Romney'll add, When things shall have their names.
Because a woman. For tlie truth itself. Look long enough
That's neither man's nor woman's, but On any peasant's face here, coarse and
just God's ; lined.
None else has reason to be proud of You'll catch Antinous somewhere in that
truth : clay.
Himself will see it sifted, disenthralled. As perfect featured as he yearns at
And kept upon the height and in the Rome
light. From marble pale with beauty ; then
As far as and no farther than 'tis truth persist.
For, —now He has left off calling firma-
;

And, if your apprehension's competent.

ments You'll findsome fairer angel at his back.
And strata, flowers and creatures, very As much exceeding him as he the boor.
good. And pushing him with imperial disdain
He says it still of truth, which is His For ever out of sight. Ay, Carrington
own. Is glad of such a creed an artist must. :

Who paints a tree, a leaf, a common

Trutli, so far, in my book ; —the truth stone.
which draws With just his hand, and finds it sud-
Through all things upwards; that a two- denly
fold world A-piece with and conterminous to his
Must go to a perfect cosmos. Natural soul.
things Why else do these things move him,
And spiritual, — who separates those two leaf or stone ?
In art, in morals, or the social drift. The bird's not moved, that pecks at a
Tears up the bond of nature and brings spring-shoot
death. Nor yet the horse before a quarry
Paints futile pictures,writes unreal verse, a-graze :

Leads vulgar days, deals ignorantly But man, the two-fold creature, appre-
with men. hends
Is wrong, in short, at all points. We The two-fold manner, in and outwardly,
divide And nothing in the world comes single
This apple of life, and cut It through to him,
the pips, A mere itself, —cup, column, or candle-
The perfect round which fitted Venus' stick.
hand All patterns of what shall be in the
Has perished as utterly as if we ate Mount
 — ; — —
^38 AURORA LEIGH.

The whole temporal show related roy- —That every natural flower which
ally. grows on earth.
And built up to eterne significance Implies a flower upon the spiritual side.
Through the open arms of God. There's '
Substantial, archetypal, all a-glow
nothing great With blossoming causes, not so far —
Nor small,' has said a poet of our day, away.
Whose voice will ring beyond the cur- That we, whose spirit-sense is somewhat
few of eve cleared.
And not be thrown out by the matin's May catch at something of the bloom
bell: and breath,
And truly, I reiterate, nothing's small . . ! Too vaguely apprehended, though in-
No lily-muffled huni of a summer-bee. deed
But finds some coupling with the spin- Still apprehended, consciously or not.
nmg stars ;
And still transferred to picture, music,
No pebble at your foot, but i:)roves a verse.
sphere ;
For thrilling audient and beholding souls
No chaffinch, but implies the cherubim : By signs and touches which are known
And, ^glancing on my own thin, veined
— to souls.
wrist, How known they know not, why, they —
In such a little tremour of the blood cannot find.
The whole strong clamour of a vehe- So straight call out on genius, say, A '

ment soul man

Doth utter itself distinct. Earth's Produced this,' when much rather they
crammed with heaven. should say,
And every common bush afire wltli ' 'Tis insight, and he saw this.'
God: Thus is Art
But only he who sees, takes off his Self-magnified in magnifying a truth
shoes. Which, fully recognised, would change
The rest sit round it and pluck blackber- the world
ries. And shift Its morals. If a man could
And daub their natural faces unaware feel,
More and more from the first similitude. Not one day, in the artist's ecstasy.
But every day, feast, fast, or working-
Truth so far, in my book ! a truth which day.
draws The spiritual significance burn through
From all things upward. I, Aurora, The hieroglyphic of material shows.
still Henceforward he would paint the globe
Have felt it hound me through the with wings,
wastes of life And reverence fish and fowl, the bull,
As Jove did lo and, until that Hand:
the tree.
Shall overtake me wholly, and on my And even his very body as a man,
head Which now he counts so vile, that all
Lay down its large unfluctuating peace. the towns
The feverish gad-fly pricks me up and Make offal of their daughters for its use
down. On summer-nights, when God is sad in
It must be. Art's the witness of what is heaven
Behind this show. If this world's show To think what goes on in his recreant
were all. world
Then imitation would be all in Art He made quite other wliile that moon
There, Jove's hand gripes us! for we — He made
;

stand here, we. To shine there, at the first love's cove-

If genuine artists, witnessing for God's nant.
Complete, consummate, undivided Shines still, convictive as a marriage-ring
work : Before adulterous eyes.
 ; —

AURORA LEIGH. 139

How sure it is. And burn us up to quiet ! Ah, we know-

That, if we say a true word, instantly Too much here, not to know what's best
We feel 'tis God's, not ours, and pass it for peace ;

on . We have too much light here, not to

As bread at sacrament we taste and pass want more fire
Nor handle for a moment, as indeed To purify and end us. We talk, talk.
We dared to set up any claim to such ! Conclude upon divine philosophies.
And I —my poem — ; let my readers talk. And get the thanks of men for hopeful
—
I'm closer to it I can speak, as well : books
I'll say with Romney, that the book i.i V/hereat we take our own life up, and
weak. . . pshaw !

The range uneven, the points of sight Unless we piece it with another's life,
obscure, (A yard of silk to carry out our lawn)
The music interrupted. As well suppose my little handkerchief
Let us go. Would cover Samminiato, church an
The end of woman (or of man, I thmk} all.
Is not a Ijook, Alas, the best of books If out I threw it past the cypresses.
Is but a word in Art, which soon grows As, in this ragged, narrow life cf mine.
cramped. Contain my own conclusions.
dubious-statured with the weight
Stiff, But at least
of years. We'll shut up the persiani and sit down.
And drops an accent or digamma down And when my head's done aching in the
Some cranny of unfathomable time, cool.
Beyond the critic's reaching. Art itself, Write just a word to Kate and Carring-
We've called the higher life, must feci ton.
the soul r*Iay joy be with them ! she has chosen
Live past it. For more's felt than is well.
perceived. And he not ill.

And more's perceived than can be in-" I should be glad, I think.

terpreted, Except for Romney. Had he married
And Love strikes higher with his lam- Kate,
bent flame I surely, surely, should be very glad.
Than Art can pile the fagots. This Florence sits upon me easily.
Is it so ? With native air and tongue. My graves
When Jove's hand meets us with com- are calm^
posing touch. And do not too much hurt me. ]Ma-
And when at last we are hushed and rian's good.
satisfied. Gentle and loving, — lets me hold the
Then lo does not call it truth, but love ? child.
Well, well my father was an English-
! Or drags him up the hills to find me
man : flowers
Jvly mother's blood in is not so strongme And fill those vases ere I'm quite
That I should bear this stress of Tuscan awake,
noon The grandiose red tulips, which grow
And keep my wits. The town, there, wild.
seems to seethe Or Dante's purple lilies, which he blew
In this jMedsean boil-pot of the sun. To a larger bubble with his prophet
And all the patient hills are bubbling breath ;

round Or one of those tall flowering reeds that

As if a prick would leave them flat. stand
Does heaven In Arno like a sheaf of sceptres left
Keep far off", not to set us in a blaze ? By some remote dynasty of dead gods.
Not so, —
let drag your fiery fringes, To suck the stream for ages and get
heaven, green.
 ' ' —
AURORA LEIGH,

And blossom wheresoe'r a hand divine To mount from sorrow to his hearer of
Had warmed the place with ichor. love.
Such I find And when he says at moments, '
Poor,
At early morning laid across my bed. poor Leigh,
And woke up pelted with a childish Who'll never call his own so true a heart.
laugh —
So fair a face even,' he must quickly
Which even Marian's low precipitous lose
' hush The pain of pity in the blush he makes
Had vainly interposed to put away, By his very pitying eyes. The snow,
While 1, with shut eyes, smile and mo- for him,
tion for Has fallen in May, and finds the whole
The dewy kiss that's very sure to come earth warm.
From mouth and cheeks, the whole And melts at the first touch of the green
child's face at once grass.
Dissolved on mine, as — if a nosegay —
But Romney, he has chosen, after all.
burst I think he had as excellent a sun
with the weight of roses over-
Its string To see by, as most others, and perhaps
blown. Has scarce seen really worse than some
And dropt upon me. Surely 1 should be of us,
glad. When all's said. Let him pass. I'm
The little creature almost loves me now. not too much
And calls my name . .
' Alola,' stripping A woman, not to be a man for once
off And bury all my Dead like Alaric,
The rs like thorns, to make it smooth Depositing the treasures of my soul
enough In this drained water-course, then letting
To take between his dainty, milk-fed flow
lips. The river of life again with commerce-
God love him ! should certainly be glad.
I ships
Except, God help me, that I'm sorrow- And pleasure -barges, full of silks and
ful. songs.
Because of Romney. Blow winds, and help us.
Romney, Romney Well, ! Ah, we mock ourselves
This grows absurd too like a tune that ! — With talking of the winds perhaps as 1

runs much
I' the head, and forces all things in the With other resolutions. How it weighs.
world. This hot, sick air and how I covet here
!

Wind, rain, the creaking gnat or .stutter- I'he Dead's provision on the river-couch
ing fly. With silver curtains drawn on tinkling
To sing itself
haps
and ve.x you ;
—yet per- rings !

Or else their rest in quiet crypts,-laid by

A paltry tune you never fairly liked. From heat and noise:— from those cicale,
Some ' I'd be a butterfly,' or '
C'est say.
I'amour :
And this more vexing heart-beat.
We're made so, —not such tyrants to So it is :

ourselves We covet for the soul, the body's part.

But still we are slaves to nature. Some To die and rot. Even so, Aurora, ends
of us Our aspiration, who bespoke our place
Are turned, too, overmuch like some So far in the east. The occidental flats
poor verse Had fed us fatter, therefore ? we have
With a trick of ritournelle the ; same climbed
thing goes Where herbage ends? we want the
And comes back ever. beast's part now
Vincent Carrlngtorf And tire of the angel's ? — Men define a
Is ' sorry,' and I'm sorry ; but he's strong man,
 — —

AURORA LEIGH. 141

The creature who stands front- ward to Aspiring, who art the way, the truth,
the stars. the life,
The creature who looks inw:ird to him- That no truth henceforth seem indiffer-
self, ent.
The tool - Wright, laughing creature. No way to truth laborious, and no life.
'Tis enough : Not even this life I live, intolerable !

We'll say, instead, the inconsequent

creature, man. The days went by. I took up the old
For that's his speciality. What creature days
else With all their Tuscan pleasures worn
Conceives the circle, and then walks the anfl spoiled
square ? Like some Ibst book we dropt in the long
Loves things proved bad, and leaves a grass
thing proved good ? On such a happy summer-afternoon
You think the bee makes honey half a When last wc read it with a loving
year. friend.
To loathe the comb in winter and desire And find in autumn when the friend is

The little ant's food rather ? But a man gone.

Note men — they are but women after
! The grasscut short, the weather
all. changed, too late.
As women are but Auroras ! — there arc And stare at, as at something wonderful
men J'or sorrow, —
thinking how two hands
liorn tender, apt to pale at a trodden before
worm, Had held up what is left to only one.
Who paint for pastime, in their favorite And how we smiled when such a vehe-
dream. ment nail
Spruce auto vestments flowered with
- Impressed the tiny dint here which jare-
crocus-flames : sents
There arc two, who believe in heaven, This verse in fire for ever. Tenderly
and fear : And mournfully 1 lived. I knew the
There are, who waste their souls in birds
working out And insects, —which looked fathered.
Life's probleuT on these sands betwixt by the flowers
two tides. And emulous of their hues I recog-
Concluding, — ' Give us tlie oyster's part, nized
:

in death.' The moths, with the great overpoise of

wings
Alas, long - suffering and most patient Which makes a mystery of them how at
God, all
Thou need'st be surelier God to bear They can stop flying : butterflies, that
with us bear
Than even to have made us thou aspire, ! Upon their blue wings such red embers
aspire round.
From henceforth for me ! thou who liast They seem to scorch the blue air into
thyself holes
FniLued this fleshhood, knowing how Each flight they take : and fire-flies
as asoaked that suspire
And sucking vesture it can drag us Li short soft lapses of transported flame.
down Across the tingling Dark, while over-
And choke us in the melancholy Deep, head
Sustain me, that with thee I walk these The constant and inviolable stars
waves. Outburn those lights-of-love : melodious
Resisting ! —breathe me upwar ', thou in owls,
rae (If music had but one note and was sad.
 — ;

AURORA LEIGH.

'Twould sound just so) and all the silent A gulph between us. I could yearn in-
swirl deed.
Of bats that seem to follow in the air Like other rich men, for a drop of dew
Some 'grand circumference of a shadowy 'I'o cool this heat, —
a drop of the early
dome dew.
To which we are blind and then the : The irrecoverable child innocence
nightingales, (Before the heart took fire and withered
"Which pluck our heart across a garden- life)
wall When childhood nil^ht pa.r equally
(When walking in the town) and carry with birds
it » But now the birds were grown too
. .

So lugh into the bowery almond-trees. proud for us!

We tremble and are afraid, and feel as if Alas, the very sun forbids the dew.
The golden flood of moonlight unaware
Dissolved the pillars of the steady earth And I, I had come back to an empty
And made it less substantial. And I
nest.
knew Which every bird's too wise for. How
The harmless opal snakes, and large I heard
mouthed frogs My father's step on that deserted ground.
(Those noisy vaunters of their shallow His voice along that silence, as he told
streams) The names of bird and insect, tree and
And lizards, the green lightnings of the flower.
wall. And all the presentations of the stars

Which, if you s:t down quiet nor sigh Across Valdarno, interposing still
loud.
'
Mychild,' my child.' When fathers
'

Will flatter you and take you for a say ' my

child,'

stone, 'Tis easier to conceive the universe,

And flash familiarly about your feet And life's transitions down the steps of
With such prodigious eyes in such small law.
heads !
I rode once to the little mountain-house
I knew them, though they had somewhat As fast as if to find my father there.
dwindled from But when in sight oft, within fifty yards,
My childish imagery, and kept in — 1 dropped my horse's bridle on his neck
mind And paused upon his flank. The house's
How last I sat among them
equally. front
In fellowship and mateship, as a child Was cased with lingots of ripe Indian
Feels equal still toward insect, beast, corn
and bird, In tesselated order and device
Before the Adam
in him has foregone Of golden patterns : not a stone of wall
All privilege ofEden, making friends — Uncovered, —not an inch of room to
And talk, with such a bird or such a goat. grow
And buying many a two-inch-wide rush- A vine-leaf. The old porch liad disa;)-
cage peared ;

To let out the caged cricket on a tree. And right in the open doorway, sate a
Saying, Oh, my dear grillino, were
' girl
you cramped ? At plaiting straws, her bkac'ic hair —
And are you happy with the ilex-leaves ? strained away
And do you love me who have let you To a scarlet kerchief caught beneath her
go? chin
Say^e?j in singing, and I'll understand.' In Tuscan fashion, —
her full ebon eyes.
But now the creatures all seemed farther Which looked too heavy to be lifted soj
off, Still dropt and lifted toward the mul-
No longer mine, nor like me ; only there. berry-tree
 —
AURORA LEIGH.

On whicli the lads were busy with their The hem of such before 'twas caught
staves away
In shout and laughter, stripping every Beyond the peaks of Lucca. Under-
bough neath,
As bare as winter, of those summer The river just escaping from the weight
leaves Of that intolerable glory, ran
My father had not changed for all the In acquiescent shadow murmurously :

silk While up beside it, streamed the festa-

In which the ugly silkworms hide them- folk
selves. With fellow-murmurs from their feet
Enough. My horse recoiled before my and fans.
lieart. And issiiiio and ino and sweet poise
I turned the rein abruptly. Bade wc Of vowels in their pleasant scandalous
went as fast, to Florence. talk ;

Returning from the grand-duke's dairy-

That was trial enough farm
Of graves. I would not visit, if I could. Before the trees grew dangerous at
My father's, or my mother's any more. eight,
To see if stone-cutter or lichen beat (For, trust
' no tree by moonlight,'
So early in the race, or throw flowers. my Tuscans say)
Which could not out-smell heaven or To eat their ice at Donay's tenderlj-,
sweeten earth. Each lovely lady close to a cavalier
They live too far above, that I should Who holds her dear fan while she feeds
look her smile
So far below to find them let mc think : On meditative spoonfuls of vanille.
That rather they are visiting my grave. And listens to his hot-breathed vows of
This life here, (undeveloped yet to life) love.
And that they drop upon nic, now and Enough to thaw her cream and scorch
then, his beard.
For token or for solace, some small weed 'Twas matter. I could pass them by
little
Least odorous of the growths of paradise, Indifferently, not fearing to be known.
'i o spare such pungent scents as kill with No danger of being wrecked upon a
joy. friend,
My old Assunta, too, was dead, was And forced to take an iceberg for an isle !

dead— The very English, here, must wait and

() land of all men's past for me alone,
! learn
It would not mix its tenses. I was past, To hang the cobweb of their gossip out
It seemed, like others, —
only not in And catch a fly. I'm happy. It's sub-
heaven lime,
And, many a Tuscan eve I wandered This perfect solitude of foreign lands !

down To be, as if you had not been till then.

The cypress alley like a restless ghost And were then, simply what you choose
That tries its feeble ineffectual breath to be ;

Upon its own charred funeral-brands To spring up, not be brought forth from
put out the ground
—
Too soon, where black and stiff stood Like gra.sshoppers at Athens, and skip
up the trees thrice
Against the broad vermilion of the Before a woman makes a pounce on you
skies. And plants you in her hair !
—possess,
Such skies —
all clouds abolished ia a
! yourself,
sweep A new world all alive with creatures
Of God's skirt, with a dazzle to ghosts new.
and men, New sun, new moon, new flowers, new
As down I went, saluting on the bridge people —ah.
 ; — —
144 AURORA LEIGH.
And be possessed ^^y none of them no ! For such a little humpbacked thing as
right she
In one, to call your name, enquire your The pitiful black kerchief round her
where. neck
Or what you think of Mister Some-one's Sole proof she had had a mother. One,
book, again.
Or Mister Other's marriage or decease. Looked sick for love, seemed praying —
Or how's the headache which you liad some soft saint
last week, To put more virtue in the new fine scarf
Or why you look so pale still, since it's She spent a fortnight's meals on, yester-
gone ? day,
— Such most surprising riddance of one's That cruel Gigi might return his eyes
life From Giuliana. There was one, so old.
Comes next one's death ; 'tis disembod- So old, to kneel grew easier than to
iment stand,
Without the pang. I marvel, people Sosolitary, she accepts at last
choose Our Lady for her gossip, and frets on
To stand stock-still like fakirs, till the Against the sinful world which goes its
moss rounds
Grows on them and they cry out, self- In marrying and being married, just the
admired, same
'
How verdant and how virtuous !' Well, As when 'twas almost good and had the
I'm glad right,
Or should be, if grown foreign to my- (Her Gian alive, and she herself eigh-
self teen).
As surely as to others. And yet, now even, if Madonna willed.
Musing so, She'd win a tern in Thursday's lottery
I walked the narrow unrecognising '
And better all things. Did she dream
streets. for nought.
Where many a palace-front peers gloom- That, boiling cabbage for the fast-day's
^ly soup.
. .

Through stony vizors iron-barred, (pre- It smelt like blessed entrails? such a
pared dream
Alike, should foe or lover pass that way. For nought ! would sweetest Mary cheat
For guest or victim) and came wander- her so.
ing out And lose that certain candle, straight
Upon the churches with mild open doors and white
And plaintive wail of vespers, where a As any fair grand-duchess in her teens.
a few. Which otherwise should flare here in a
Those chiefly women, sprinkled round week ?
in blots Benigna sis, thou beauteous Queen of
Upon the dasky pavement, knelt and heaven !'

prayed
Toward the altar's silver glory. Oft a ray I sate there musing and imagining
(I liked to sit and watch would tremble Such utterance from such faces poor :

out. blind souls

Just touch some face more lifted, more That writhed toward heaven along the
in need. devil's trail,
Of course a woman's — while I dreamed Who knows, I thought, but He may
a tale stretch his hand
To fit its fortunes. There was one who And pick them up? 'tis written in the
looked Book
A-'if the earth had suddenly grown too He heareth the young ravens when they
lartie cry;
 — —
AURORA LEIGH. 145

And yet they cry for carrion. —O my With gradual conscience to a perfect
God, night.
And we, who make
excuses for the rest. Until the moon, diminished to a curve.
We do itin our measure. Then I knelt. Lay out there like a sickle for His hand
And dropped my head upon the pave- Who Cometh down at last to reap the
ment too. earth.
And prayed, since I was fooUsh in desire At such times, ended seemed my trade
Like other creatures, craving oflfal-food. of verse ;

That He would stop his ears to what I I feared to jingle bells upon my robe
said. Before the four-faced silent cherubim,:
And only listen to the run and beat With God so near me, could I sing of
Of this poor, passionate, helpless blood God?
And then I did not write, nor read, nor even
I lay, and spoke not. But He heard in think.
heaven. But sate absorbed amid the quickening
So many Tuscan evenings passed the gloom.s.
same. Most like some passive broken lump of
I could not lose a sunset on the bridge. salt
And would not miss a vigil in the church. Dropt in by chance to a bowl of oeno-
And liked to mingle with the out-door mel.
crowd To spoil the drink a little and lose itself.
So strange and gay and ignorant of my Dissolving slowly, slowly, until lost.
face.
For men you know not, are as good as
trees.
And only once, at the Santissima, EIGHTH BOOK.
I almost chanced upon a man I knew.
Sir Blaise Delorme. He saw me cer- One eve it happened when I sate alone.
tainly. Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
And somewhat hurried, as he crossed A book upon my knees to counterfeit
himself. The reading that I never read at all.
The smoothness of the action, —then half While Marian, in the garden down be-
bowed. low.
But only half, and merely to mj^ shade, Knelt by the fountain I could just hear
I slipped so quick behind the porphyry thrill
plinth The drowsy silence of the exhausted
And left him dubious if 'twas really I, day.
Or perad venture Satan's usual trick And peeled a new fig from that purple
To keep a mounting saint uncanonised. heap
But he was safefor that time, and I too ;
In the grass beside her, turning out the —
The argent angels in the altar-flare red
Absorbed his soul next moment. The To feed her eager child, who sucked at
good man ! it

In Engl.Tud we were scarce acquaint- With vehement lips across a gap of air
ances. As he stood opposite, face and curls
That here in Florence he should keep a-flame
my thought With that last sun-ray, crying, '
give me.
Beyond the image on his eye, which
came And stamping with Imperious baby-
And went and yet his thought dis- feet,
turbed
:

my life : (We're born princes)

all something —
For, after that, I oftener sat at home startled me,
On evenings, watching how they fined The laugh of sad and innocent souls,
themselves that breaks
 ; ' ; !

146 AURORA LEIGH.

Abruptly, as if frightened at itself Strikes ten, as if it struck ten fathoms

'Twas Marian laughed. 1 saw her down.
glance above So deep and fifty churches answer it
;

In sudden shame that I should hear her I'he same with twenty various instances.
laugh. Some gaslights tremble along squares
And straightway dropped my eyes upon and streets
my book. The Pitti's palace-front is drawn in fire :

And knew, the first time, 'twas Bocca- And, past the quays, Maria Novella
cio's tale. Place,
The Falcon's, — of the lover who for In which the mystic obelisks stand up
love Triangular, pyramidal, each based
Destroyed the best that loved him. Upon its four-square brazen tortoises.
Some of us To guard that fair church, Buonarotti's
then we sit and laugh no
Do it still, and Bride,
more. That stares out from her large blind
L,dLUgh you, sweet Marian you've the ! dial-eyes.
right to laugh, Her quadrant and armillary dials, black
Since God himself is for you, and a With rhythms of many suns and moons.
child in vain
—and so
!

For me there's somewhat less, I Enquiry for so rich a soul as his.

sigh. Methinks I have plunged, I see it all so
clear . . .

The heavens were making room to hold And, oh my heart , . . the sea-king !

the night.
The seven-fold heavens unfolding all
In my ears
their gates
The sound of waters. There he stood,
To let the stars out slowly (prophesied
my king !

In close-approaching advent, not dis- I felt him, rather than beheld him. Up
cerned). I rose, as if he were my king indeed.
While still the cue-owls from the And then sate down, in trouble at my-
cypresses self.
Of the poggio called and counted every And struggling for my woman's empery.
pulse Tis pitiful but women are so made :
Of the skyey palpitation. Gradually
;

We'll die for you perhaps, 'tis proba-

—
The purple and transparent shadows ble ;

slow But we'll not spare you an inch of our

Had filled up the whole valley to the full height :

And
brim.
flooded all the city, which you
We'll have our whole just stature, —five
feet four,
saw Though laid out in our coffins pitiful
As some drowned city in some enchanted — 'You, Romney !
:

Lady Waldemar
sea. here ?
Cut off from nature, —drawing you who is

gaze. He answered in a voice which was not

With passionate desire, to leap and his,
plunge '
I have her letter ; you shall read it
And find a sea-king with a voice of soon.
waves. But must be heard a little, I,
first, I
And treacherous soft eyes, and slippery Who have waited long and travelled far
locks for that.
You cannot kiss but you shall bring Although you thought to have shut a
away tedious book
Their salt upon your lips. The duomo- And farewell. Ah, you dog-eared such
bell a page.
 — —
AURORA LEIGH.

And here you find me.'

Did he touch my hand.
He echoed,
yond.
—picking up the phrase be-

Or but my sleeve ? I trembled, hand Ashe knew the rest was merely talk
if
and foot, To fill a gap and keep out a strong wind,
He must have touched me. — ' Will you You had, then, Vmcent's personal
'

sit?' I asked. news ?'

And motioned to a chair ; but down he His own,' '

sate, I answered. All that ruined world of

'

A little slowly, as a man in doubt, yours

Upon the couch beside me, — couch and Seems crumbling into marriage. Car-
chair rington
Being wheeled upon the terrace. Has chosenwisely.'
'
You are come, V)o you take it so?' '

My cousin Romney?— this is wonder- He cried, and

is it possible at last' . .
'

ful. He paused there, and then, inward to —

But all is wonder on such summer- himself,

And
nights
nothing
;

should surprise us any

'
Too much at last, too late
tainly' . .
yet cer- !
—
more, (And there his voice swayed as an Al-
Who see that miracle of stars. Behold.' pine plank
That feels a passionate torrent under-
I signed above, where all the stars were neath)
out. The knowledge, had known
'
I it first or
As if an urgent heat had started there last.
A secret writing from a sombre page, Had never changed the actual case for
A blank last moment, crowded suddenly me.
With hurrying splendors. And best for hc7' at this time.'
Then you do not know'-^
'
Nay, 1 thought.
He murmured. He loves Kate Ward, it seems, now, like
'
Yes, I know,' I said, ' I know. a man.
I had the news from Vincent Carring- Because he has married Lady Waldc-
ton. mar.
And yet I did not think you'd leave the Ah, Vincent's letter said how Leigh was
work moved
In England, for so much even, — though To hear that Vincent was betrothed to
of course Kate.
You'll make a work-day of your holiday. With what cracked pitchers go we to
And turn it to our Tuscan people's use, deep wells
Who much need helping since the Aus- In this world Then I spoke, I did
!
— '

trian boar
not think.
(So bold to cross the Alp to Lombardy My cousin, you had ever known Kate
And dash his brute front unabashed Ward.'
against
The steep snow-bosses of that shield of '
In fact I never knew her. 'Tis enough
God That Vincent did, and therefore chose
Who soon shall rise in wrath and shake his wife
it clear,)
For other reasons than those topaz eyes
Came hither also, — raking up our grape I've heard of. Not to undervalue them.
And olive-gardens with his tyrannous For all that. One takes up the world
tusk,
with eyes.
And rolling on our maize with all his
swine.'
— Including Romney Leigh, I thought
' You had the news from Vincent Car- again.
rington,' Albeit he knows them only by repute.
 ; — •

I4S AURORA LEIGH.

How vile must all men be, since he's a His possible presence. Excellently well
man. You've played your part, my Lady
Waldemar,—
His deep pathetic voice, as if he guessed
As I've played mine.
I did not surely love him, took the word; '
Dear Romney,' I began,
* You never got a letter from Lord Howe '
You did
not use, of old, to be so like
A month back, dear Aurora V A Greek king coming from a taken Troy,
'None,' I said.
Twas needful that precursors spread
your path
' I felt it so,' he replied : Yet, strange
'
! With three-piled carpets, to receive your
Sir Blaise Delorme has passed through foot
Florence ? And dull the sound oft. For myself, be
'Ay, sure.
By chance I saw hiiu in Our Lady's Although it frankly grinds the gravel
church, here,
(I saw him, mark you, but he saw not I still can bear it. Yet I'm sorry too
me) To lose this famous letter, which Sir
Clean-washed in holy water froni the Blaise
count Has twisted to a lighter absently
Of things terrestrial, — letters and t!ie To fire some holy taper : dear Lord
rest Howe
He had crossed us out together with Li; Writes letters good for all things but to
sins. lose ;

Ay, strange but only strange that good

; And many a flower of London gossipry
Lord Howe Has dropt wherever such a stem broke
Preferred him to the post because of off.
pauls. Of course I feel that, lonely among my
For me I'm sworn never to trust a man vines.
At least with letters.' Where nothing's talked of, save the
blight again.-
There were facts to tell. And no more Chianti Still the letter's
!

To smooth with eye and accent. Howe use

supposed . . As preparation Did I start indeed ?
Well, well, no matter there was du- ! Last night I started at a cockchafer.
bious need ; And shook a half-hour after. Have you
Y'ou heard the news from Vincent Car- learnt
rington. No more of woman, 'spite of privilege.
And yet perhaps you had been startled Than still to take account too seriously
less Of such weak flutterings ? Why, we
To see me, dear Aurora, if you had like it, sir,

read Wc get our powers and our effects that

That letter.' way
— Now he sets me down as vexed. The trees stand stiff and still at time of
Ithink I've draped myself in woman's frost,
pride If no wind tears them ; but, let summer
To a perfect purpose. Oh, I'm vexed, come.
itseems ! When trees are happy, and a breath —
My friend Lord Howe deputes his friend avails
Sir Blaise To set them trembling through a million
I'obreak as softly as a sparrow's egg leaves \\

That lets a bird out tenderly, the news In luxury of emotion. Something less
Of Romney's marriage to a certain saint; It takes to move a woman let her start :

To smooth with eye and accent, — indi- And shake at pleasure, nor conclude at —
cate yours,
 —
AURORA LEIGH.

The winter's bitter, — ^but the summer's But, that we choose it, proves it good for
green.' us
Potentially, fantastically, now
He answered, Be the summer ever
' Or last year, rather than a thing we saw,
green And saw no need for choosing. Moths
With you, Aurora though you sweep
! — will burn
your sex Their wings, —which proves that light is

With somewhat bitter gusts from where good for moths.

you hve Or else they had flown not where they
Above them, whirling downward from agonise.'
your jieights
Your very own pme-cones, in a grand '
Ay, light is good,' he echoed, and there
disdain paused.
Of the lowland burrs with which you And then abruptly, Marian. . Ma-.
'

scatter them. rian's well V

So high and cold to others and yourself,
A little less to Romney were unjust. I my head but found no word.
bowed
And thus, I would not have you. Let 'Twas hard
it pass : To her to Lady Waldemar's
spealc ot
I feel content so. You can bear indeed New husband. How much did he know,
My sudden step beside you but for me, : at last ?
'Twould move me sore to hear your How much? how little ? He would
softened voice, take no sign.
—
Aurora's voice, if softened unaware But straight repeated,—' Marian. Is she
In pity of what I am.' welfr
Ah friend, I thought.
As husband of the Lady Waldemar '
She's well,' I answered.
You're granted very sorely pitiable !

And yet Aurora Leigh must guard her She was there in sight
voice An hour back, but the night had drawn
From softening in the pity of your case. her home ;

As if from lie or license. Certainly Where still I heard her in an upper

We'll soak up all the slush and soil of life room.
AVith softened voices, ere we come to Her low voice singing to the chdd in
you. bed.
Who, restless with the summer-heat and
At which interrupted
I my own thought play
And spoke out calmly. ' Let us ponder, And slumber snatched at noon, was long
friend, sometimes
Whate'er our state we must have made At falling off, and took a score of songs
it first ; And mother-hushes ere she saw him
And though the thing displease us, ay, sound.
perhaps
Displease us warrantably, never doubt '
She's well,' I answered.
That other states, though possible once,
'
Here ?' he asked.
and then •Yes. here.'
Rejected by the instinct of our lives.
If then adopted had displeased us more I le stopped and sighed. ' That shall be
Than this in which the choice, the will, presently.
the love. But now this must be. I have words to

Has stamped the honour of a patent act say.

And would be alone to say them, with
From henceforth. What we choose may I

not be good ;
you,
 : ; : —
AURORA LEIGH.
And no third troubling.' Who'll write us richer and completer
books.
Speak then,'
'
I returned, A man may love a woman perfectly.
'She will not vex you.' And yet by no means ignorantly main-
lain
At which, suddenly
He turned his face upon me with its A thousand women have not larger eyes:
smile.
Enough that she alone has looked at him
As crush me.
if to ' I have read your With eyes that, large or small, have won
his soul.
book,
Aurora.' And so, this book, Aurora, — so, your
' You have read it,' I replied, book.'
' And I have writ it, we have done — '
Alas,' I answered, Is ' It so, indeed V
with it. And then was silent.
And now the rest V '
Is it so, indeed,'
The rest like the He echoed, alas your word V
—
' '
is first. i\\Vii \sa.\\.

He answered, ' for the book is in my —

heart, I said, I'm thinking of a far-off June,
'

Lives in me, wakes in me, and dreams When you and I, upon my birthday
in me :
once,
My daily bread tastes of it, —and my Discoursed of
untried.
life and art, with both
wine
Which has no smack of it, I pour it out I'm thinking, Romney, how 'twas morn-
It seems unnatural drinking.'
ing then.
Bitterly
And now 'tis night.'
I took the word up ;
' Never waste your 'And now,' he said, 'tis night.'
wine.
The book lived in me ere it lived in you ;
'
I'm thinking,' I resumed, '
'tis some-
1 know it closer than another does. what sad
And how it's toolish, feeble, and afraid. 'i'hat if 1 had known, that morning i;i
And all unworthy so much compliment. the dew.
Beseech you, keep your wine, — and, My cousin Romney would have said
when you drink. such words
Still wish some happier fortune to a On such a night at close of many years.
friend. In speaking of a future book of mine,
Than even to have written a far better It would have pleased me better as a
book.* hope,
Than as an actual grace it can at all.
He answered gently, 'That is conse- 'i'hat's sad, I'm thinking.'
quent :

The poet looks beyond the book lie has '

Ay,' he said, ''tis night.'
made,
Or he had not made it. If a man
else '
And
there,' I addeil lightly, ' are the
Could make a man, he'd henceforth be stars !
a god And here we'll talk of stars and not cf
In feeling what a little thing is man :
books.'
It is not my case. And this special book,
I did not make it, to make light of it '
You have the stars,' he murmured,
It stands above my knowledge, draws 'it is well
me up ; Be like them ! shine, Aurora, on my
'Tis high to me. It may be that the book dark
Is not so high, but I so low, instead ;
Though high and cold and only like a
Stillhigh to me. I mean no compliment: star,
I will not say there are not, young or old,
Male writers, ay or female, let it pass, —
And for
who keep
this short night only, — you,
 — / —
AURORA LEIGH. 15'

The same Aurora of the bright June You took it for a venturous piece of
day spite.
That withered up the flowers before my Provoking such excuses as indeed
face. I cannot call you slack in.'
And turned rae from the garden ever- Understand,' '

more He answered sadly, '

something, if but
Because I was not worthy. Oh, de- so.
served. This night is softer than an English day.
Deserved That I, who verily had not
! And men may well come hither when
learnt they're sick.
God's lesson half, attaining as a dunce To draw breath from larger air.
in easier
To obliterate good works with fractious 'Tis thus with me I've come to you, ;

thumbs to you,
And cheat myself of the context, — My Italy of women, just to breathe
should push My soul out once before you, ere I go.
Aside, with male ferocious impudence. As humble as God makes me at the last
The world's Aurora, who had conned (I thank Him) quite out of the way of
her part men
On the other side the leaf! Ignore her And yours, Aurora, — like a punished
so. child.
Because she was a woman and a queen, His cheeks all blurred with tears and
And had no beard to bristle through her naughtiness.
song. To silence in a corner. I am come
My teacher, who has taught me with a To .speak, beloved ' . .

book, Wisely, cousin Leigh,

'

My Miriam, whose sweet mouth, when And worthily of us both !'

nearly drowned Yes, worthily '
;

I still heard singing ou the shore ! De- For this time I must speak out and con-
served, fess
That here I should look up unto the That I, so truculent in assumption once.
stars So absolute in dogma, proud in aim.
And miss the glory '
. . And fierce in expectation, I, who felt —
The whole world tugging at skirts my
'
Can I understand ?
'
for help.
I broke in. ' You speak wildly, Rom- As if no other man than I, could pull,
ney Leigh, Nor woman, but 1 led her by the hand.
Or I hear wildly. In that morning- Nor cloth hold, but I had it in my coat.
time Do know myself to-night for what I was
We recollect, the rose;^ were too red. On that June-day, Aurdra. Poor bright
The trees too green, reproach too nat- day.
ural Which meant the best . . a woman and
If one should see not what the other a rose.
saw : And which I .smote upon the clieek with
And now, it's night, remember we ; words
have shades Until turned and rent me
it Young !

In place of colours ; wc arc now grown you were.

cold, That birthday, poet, but you talked the
And old, my cousin Romney. Pardon right :

me, While 1, I built up follies like a wall . .

I'm very happy that you like my book. To intercept the sunshine and your face.
And very sorry that 1 quoted back ^ Your face that's worse.' !

A ten years' birthday 'twas so mad a ; Speak wisely, cousin Leigh.'

thing Yes, wisely, dear Aurora, though too '

In any woman, I scarce marvel much late :

 —
i5a AURORA LEIGH.
But then, not wisely. I was heavy then. —How dark I stood that morning in the
And stupid, and distracted with the cries sun.
Of tortured prisoners in the polished My best Aurora, though I saw your eyes.
brass When first you told me . . oh, I recollect
Of that Phalarian bull, society. The sounds, and how you lifted your
Which seems to bellow bravely like ten small hand.
bulls, And how your white dress and your
But, if you listen, moans and cries in- burnished curls
stead Went greatening round you in the still
Despairingly, like victims tossed and blue air.
gored As if an inspiration from within
And trampled by their hoofs. I heard Had blowa them all out when you spoke
the cries the words.
Too close : I could not hear the angels Even these, — ' You will not compass
lift your poor ends
A fold of rustling air. nor what they said ' Of barley -feeding and material ease,
To help my pity. I beheld the world ' Without the poet's individualism
As one great famishing carnivorous * To work your universal. It takes a soul,
mouth, ' To move a body, it takes a high- —
A huge, deserted, callow, blind, bird souled man,
Thing, ' To move the masses even to a clean- . .

With piteous open beak that hurt my er style :

heart. '
It takes the ideal, to blow an inch in-
Till down upon the filthy ground I drop- side
ped. ' The dust of the actual : and yor.r
And tore the violets up to get the worms. Fouriers failed.
Worms, worms, was all my cry : an '
Because not poets enough to Tinder-
open mouth, stand
A gross want, bread to fill it to the lips, 'That life develops from within.' I say
No more That poor men narrowed
! —
Your words, I could say other words of
their demands yours ;

To such an end. was virtue, I supposed. For none of all your words will let me
Adjudicating that to see it so S°
.
:

Was reason. Oh, I did not push the case Like sweet verbena whlch,being brushed
Up higher, and ponder how it answers agauist.
when Will hold us three hours after by the
The rich take up the same cry for them- smell
selves. In spite of long walks upon windy hills.
Professing equally, an open mouth— ' But these words dealt in sharper per-
A gross need, food lo fill us, and no fume, these —
more.' Were ever on me, stinging through my
Why that's so far from virtue, only vice dreams.
Can find excuse for't That makes ! And saying themselves for ever o'er my
libertines : acts
And slurs our cruel streets fror.i end to Like some unhappy verdict. That I
end failed.
With eighty thousand women in one Is certain. Style or no style, to con-
smile. trive
Who only smile at night beneath the The swine's propulsion toward the pre-
gas : cipice,
The body's satisfaction and no more. proved easy and plain. I subtly organ-
Is used for argument against the soul's. ised
Here too the want, here too, implies
; And ordered, built tha cards up high
the right. and liigher.
 — —
AURORA LEIGH. 153

fill, some one breathing, all fell flat As well as you, sir,) weary and in want
again ! Of even a sheep-path, thinking bitterly, .

In setting right society's wide wrong, Well, well ! no matter. I but say so
Mere life 's so fatal So I failed indeed much,
—
!

Once, twice, and oftener, hearing To keep you, Romney Leigh, from say-
through the rents ing more.
Of ob-itinate purpose, still those words of And let you not so high in-
feel 1 am
yours. deed,
* You ivill 7iot compass your poor ends, That I can bear to liave you at my
not you !' foot,—
But harder than you said them ; every Or safe, that I can help you. That June-
time day,
Still farther from your voice, until they Too deeply sunk in craterous sunsets
came now
To overcrow me with triumphant scorn For you or me to dig it up alive ;

Which vexed me to resistance. Set down To pluck it out all bleeding with spent
this flame
For condemnation, I was guilty here — : At the roots, before those moralising
I stood upon my deed and fought my stars
doubt. We have got instead, that poor lost —
As men will, —for I doubted, — till at last day, you said
My deed gave way beneath me suddenly Some words as truthful as the thing of
And lett me what I am. The curtain mine
dropped. You cared to keep in memory and I :

My part quite ended, all the footlights hold

quenched. If I, that day, and, being the girl I was.
My own soul hissing at me through the Had shown a gentler spirit, less arro-
dark, gance,
I, ready for confession, T — was wrong, It had not hurt me. You will scarce
I've sorely failed, I've slipped the ends mistake
of life, The point here. I but only think, you
I yield, you have conquered.' see.
Stay,' I answered him
'
; More justly, that's more humbly, of my-
'
I've something for your hearing, also. I self.
Have failed too.' Than when a crown on and
I tried
'
You !' he
you're very great ;
said, '
supposed . . .

The sadness of your greatness fits you Nay, laugh sir, I'll laugh with you — !

well : pray you, laugh.

As if the plume upon a hero's casque I've had so many birthdays since that
Should nod a shadow upon his victor day,
face.' I've learnt to prize mirth's opportuni-
I took him up austerely, — ' Von have ties,
read Which come too seldom. Was it you
My book, but not my heart ; for recol- who said
lect, I was not changed? the .same Aurora?
'Tis writ in Sanscrit which you bungle Ah,
at. We could laugh there, too ! Why,
I've surely failed, I know, if failure; Ulysses' dog
means Knew him, and wagged his tail and
To look back sadly on work gladly died : but if
done, I had owned a dog, I too, before my
To wander on my mountains of Delight, Troy,
So calleQ, (I can reme:nber a fnend"s And, if you brought him here, . . I war-
words rant you
 ' ; —
AURORA LEIGH.

He'd look into my

face, bark lustily. The soul's the way. Not even Christ
And live on stoutly, as the creatures will Himself
Whose spirits are not troubled by long Can save man else than as He holds
loves man's soul
A dog would never know me, I'm so And therefore did He come into our
changed, flesh.
]\Iuch less a friend . . except you're mis- As some wise hunter creeping on his
led knees
By the colour of the hair, the trick of With a torch, into the blackness of a
the voice. cave.
Like that Aurora Leigh's.' Toface and quell the beast there, take —
Sweet trick of voice '
! the sou!.
I would be a dog for this, to know it at And so possess the whole man, body and
last. soul.
And die upon the falls of it. love, O I said, so far, right, yes ; rot farther,
best Aurora are you then so sad,
! though :

You scarcely had been sadder as my We both were wrong that June-day,
wife t both as wrong
As an east wind had been. I who talked
'
Your wife, sir ! I must certainly be of art,
changed And you who grieved for all men's griefs
If I, Aurora, can have said a thing . . . what then '!

So light, it catches at the knightly spurs We surely made too small a part for God
Of a noble gentleman like Romney In these things. What we are, imports
Leigh, us more
And trips him from his honourable sense Than what we you've eat : and life,
Of what befits '
. . granted me.
'
You wholly misconceive,' Develops from within But innermost
He answered Of the inmost, most interior of the in-
I returned, I'm glad of it — ' : terne,
Ikit keep from misconception, too, your- God claims his own, Divine humanity
self : Renewing nature, or the piercingest —
1 am not humbled to so low a point. verse,
Nor so far saddened. If I am sad at Prest in by subtlest poet, still must keep
all. As much upon the outside of a man
Ten layers of birthdays on a woman's As the very bowl in which he dips his
head beard.
Are apt to fossilise her girlish mirth.
Though ne'er so merry I am perforce : — And then, . . the rest ; I cannot surely
more wise speak.
And that, in truth, means sadder. For Perhaps I doubt more than you doubted
the rest. then,
Look I was right upon tlie
here, sir : If I, the poet's veritable charge.
whole Have borne upon my forehead. If I
That birthday morning. 'Tis impossible have
To get at men excepting through their Itmight feel somewhat liker to a crown.
souls. The foolish green one even. — Ah, I think,
However open their carnivorous jaws : And chiefly when the sun shines, thas
And poets get directlier at the soul. I've failed.
Than any of your ceconomists for : — But what then, Romney ? Though we
which fail indeed,
You must not overlook the poet's work You . . I a score of such
. . weak work-
When scheming for the vvorld's necessi- ers, . . He
ties, I'ails never. If He cannot work by us.
 AUK OKA IJUGH.

He will work over ns. Does He wnnt You showed me something separate froni
a man. yourself.
Much less a woman, think you ? Everj^ Beyond you, and I bore to take it in.
time And let it draw me You have shown
The star winks there, so many souls arc me truths,
born. O June-day friend, that help me now at
Who all shall work too. Let our own night
be calm : When June is over ! truths not yours,
We should be ashamed to sit beneath indeed,
those stars. But set within my reach by means cf
Impatient that we're nothing. you.
Presented by your voice and verse the
'
Could we sit way
Just so for ever, sweetest friend,' he said, To takethem clearest. Yerily I wa-.
'
Myfailure would seem better than suc- wrong ;

cess. And verily many thinkers of this age.

And yet indeed your book has dealt Ay, many Christian teachers, half i:i
with me heaven.
More gently, cousin, than you ever will ! Are wrong in just my sense who under-
The book brought down entire the stood
bright June-day, Our natural world too insularly, as if
And set me wandering in the garden- No spiritual counterpart completed it
walks. Consummating its meaning, rounding
And let me watch the garland in a place, all
You blushed so . . nay, forgive me do ; To justice and perfection, line by line.
not stir : Form by form, nothing single nor alone.
I only thank the book for what it taught. The great below clenched by the great
And what, permitted. Poet, doubt your- above.
self, Shade here authenticating substance
But never doubt that you're a poet to there,
me The body proving spirit, as the effect
From henceforth. You have written The cause we meantime being too
:

poems, sweet. grossly apt

Which moved me in secret, as the sap To hold the natural, as dogs a bone,
is moved (Though reason and nature beat us in
In still March-branches, signless as a the face)
stone : So obstinately, that we'll break our
But this last book o'ercame me like soft teeth
rain Or ever we let go. For everywhere
Which falls at mijlnight, when the We're too materialistic, eating clay —
tightened bark (Like men of the west) instead of
Breaks out into unhesitating buds Adam's corn
And sudden protestations of the spring. And Noah's wine clay by handfuls,
;

In all your other books, 1 saw but you : clay by lumps.

A man may see the moon so, in a pond. Until we're filled up to the throat with
And not the nearer therefore to the clay.
moon. And grow the grimy colour of the
Nor use the sight except to drown . . ground
himself. On which we are feeding. Ay, materi-
And so I forced heart back from the my alist
sight. The age's name is. God himself, with
For what had /, I thought, to do with her, some.
Aurora Romr^ey ? But, in this last
. . Isapprehended as the bare result
book, Of what his hand materia'.lv has made,
 . —
AURORA LEIGH.
Expressed in such an algebraic sign The verb being absent, and the pronoun
Called God ; —that is, to put it other- out ?
wise. But we, distracted in the ro.ir of life
They add up nature to a naught of God Still insolently at God's adverb snatch.
And cross the quotient. There are And bruit against Him that his thought
many even IS void.
Whose names are written in the Chris- His meaning hopeless, —cry, that every-
tian church where
To no —
dishonour, diet still on mud, The government is slipping from his
And splash the altars with it. You hand,
might thmk Unless some other Christ.. say Romney
The clay, Christ laid upon their eyelids Leigh .

when, Come up and toil and moil, and change

Still blind, he called them to the use of the world,
sight, Because the Kirst has proved inadequate.
Remained there to retard its exercise However we talk bigly of His work
With clogging incrustations. Close to And piously of His person. blas- We
heaven. pheme
They see, for mysteries, through the At last, to finish our doxology,
open doors. Despairing on the earth for which He
Vague puffs of smoke from pots of died.'
earthenware ;
'So now I asked, 'you have more hope
And fain would enter, when their time of men ?
shall come, •

With quite another body than St Paul '

I hope,' he answered :
'
I am come to
Has promised, —
husk and chaff, the think
whole barley corn, That God will have his work done, as
Or Where's the resurrection ?
'
you said.
Thns it is,' '
And that we need not be disturbed too
I sighed. And he resumed with mourn- much
ful face. For Romney Leigh or others having
'Beginning so, and filling up with clay failed
The wards of this great key, the natural With this or that quack nostrum,
world. recipes
And fumbling vainly therefore at the For keeping summits by annulling
lock depths.
Of the spiritual, — we feel ourselves shut For wrestli:ig with luxurious lounging
in sleeves.
With all the wild-beast roar of struggling And acting heroism without a scratch.
life. We fail, —what, then? Aurora, if I
The terrors and compunctions of our smiled
souls, To see you, in your lovely morning-
—
As saints with lions, we who are not pride.
saints. Try on the poet's wreath which suits
And have no heavenly lordship in our the noon,
stare (Sweet cousin, walls must get the
To awe them backward ! Ay, we arc weather-stain
forced, so pent. Before they grow the ivy !) certainly
To judge the whole too partially, . . 1 stood myself there worthier of con-
confound tempt.
Conclusions. Is there any common Self-rated, in disastrous arrogance.
phrase As competent to sorrow for mankind
Significant, with the adverb heard And even their odds. A man may well
alone. despair,
 ! —
A UK ORA LEIGH.
Who counts himself so needful to suc- Who makes the point, agreed to leave the
cess. join :

I failed. I throw the remedy back on And if a man should cry, I want a pin. '

God. 'And I must make it straightway, head

And sit down here beside you in good and point,'
hope.' His wisdom is not worth the pin he
'And yet, take heed,' I answered, 'lest wants.
we lean
Too dangerously on the other side.
Seven men to a pin, —and not a man too
much I

And so iail twice. Be sure, no earnest Seven generations, haply, to this world.
work To right it visibly a finger's breadth.
Of any honest creature, howbeit weak, And mend its rents a Httle. Oh, to storm
Imperfect, ill-adapted, fails so much, And say, This world here is intolerable
'
;
It is not gathered as a gram of sand '
not eat this corn, nor drink this
I will
To enlarge the sum of human action used wine,
For carrying out God's end. No crea- ' Nor love this woman,
flinging her soul
ture works • Without a bond for
't as alover should,
So ill, observe, that therefore he's ' Nor use the generous leave
of happiness
cashiered. ' As not too good for using
generously'
The honest earnest man must stand and (Since virtue kindles at the touch of joy.
work. Like a man's cheek laid on a woman's
The woman also ; otherwise she drops hand.
At once below the dignity of man. And God, who knows it, looks for quick
Accepting serfdom. Free men freely returns
work. From joys) to stand and claim to have
Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.' a life
Beyond the bounds of the individual
He 'True. After Adam, work
cried, man,
was curse ;
And raze all personal cloisters of the
The natural creature labours, sweats and soul
frets. To build up public stores and magazines.
But after Christ, work turns to privilege, As God's creatures otherwise were lost.
if
And henceforth one with our humanity. The builder surely saved by any means !
The Six-day Worker, working still in us. —
To think, I have a pattern on my nail.
Has called us freely to work on with And 1 will carve the world new after it.
Him And solve so, these hard social ques-
In high companionship. So, happiest tions, nay, —
I count that Heaven itself is only work Impossible social questions, since their —
To a surer issue. Let us work, indeed. roots
But no more work as Adam nor as . . Strike deep in Evil's own existence here.
Leigh Which God permits because the ques-
Erewhile, as if the only man on earth. tion 's hard
Responsible for all the thistles blown To abolish evil nor attaint free-will.
And tigers couchant, struggling in — Ay, hard to God, but not to Romney
amaze Leigh !

Against disease and winter, —snarling on For Romney has a pattern on his nail,
For ever, that the world's not paradise. (Whatever may be lacking on the Mount)
Oh cousin, let us be content, in work. And not being overnice to separate
To do the thing we can, and not presume What's element from what's convention,
To fret because it's little. 'Twill employ hastes
Seven men, they say, to make a perfect By line on line to draw yon out a world.
pin : Without your help indeed, unless you
Who makes the head, content to miss the take
point, His yoke upon you and will learn of him.
 — ; :

158 AURORA LEIGH.

\
So much he has
world!
to teach ! so good a And make
ralise
a game oPt, —yes, we gene-

The same, the whole creation's groaning Enough to please you. If we pray at all.
for! We pray no longer for our daily bread.
No rich nor poor, no gain nor loss nor But next centenary's harvests. If we
stint. give.
No potage in it able to exclude Our cup of water is not tendered till

A brother's birthright, and no right of We lay down pipes and found a Com-
birth, pany
The potage —both secured to every man. With Branches. Ass or angel, 'tis the
And perfect virtue dealt out like the same :

rest A woman cannot do the thing she ought.

Gratuitously, with the soup at six. Which means whatever perfect thing
To whoso does not seek it.' she can.
'
Softly, In life, in art, in science, but she fears
I interrupted,
— ' I had a cousin once
sir,'
To let the perfect action take her part
I held in reverence. If he strained too And rest there she must prove what
:

wide. she can do

It was not to take honour but to give Before she does
rights.
it, —prate of woman's
help ;

The gesture was heroic. If his hand Of woman's mission, woman's function,
Accomplished nothing (well, it is not . . till

proved) The men (who are prating too on their

That empty hand thrown impotently out side) cry,
Were sooner caught, I think, by One in '
A woman's function plainly is . . to
heaven. talk.'
Than many a hand that reaped a har- Poor souls, they are very reasonably
vest in vexed
And keeps the scythe's glow on it. They cannot hear each other speak.'
Pray you, then.
For my sake merely, vise less bitterness '
And you.
In speaking of my cousin.' An artist, judge so ?'

Ah,' he said, ' an artist, yes. '

I, —
* Aurora when the prophet beats the Because, precisely, I'm an artist, sir.
—
!

ass. And woman, if another sate in sight,

The angel intercedes.' He shook his I'd whisper, —
Soft, my sister! not a
head word !

'
And yet to mean so well and fail so By speaking we prove only we can speak
foul. Which he, the man here, never doubted.
Expresses ne'er another beast than man ; What
The antithesis is human- Hearken, dear; He doubts is whether we can do the
There's too much abstract willing, pur- thing
posing. With decent grace we've not yet done
In this poor world. We talk by aggre- at all.
gates, Now, do it bring your statue, you
; —
And think by systems ; and, being used have room !

to face He'll see it even by the starlight here ;

Our evils in statistics, are inclined And if 'tis e'er so little like the god
To cap them with unreal remedies Who looks out from the marble silently
Drawn out in haste on the other side the Along the track of his own shining dart
slate.' Through the dusk of ages, there's no —
need to speak ;

*
That's true,' I answered, fain to throw The universe shall henceforth speak for
up thought. yol'
 — ' '

AURORA LEIGH. 159

And witness, 'She who did this thing, He might republic. Genuine govern-
was born ment
To do it, — claims her Hcense in her Isbut the expression of a nation, good
worl:.' —
Or less good, even as all society.
—And so with more works. Who cures Howe'er unequal, monstrous, crazed,
the plague. and cursed.
Though twice a woman, shall be called Is but the expression of men's single
a leech : lives.
Who rights a land's finances, is excused The loud sum of the silent units. What,
For touching coppers, though her hands We'd change the aggregate and yet
be white, retain
But we, we talk !'
Each separate figure ? Whom do we
'
It is the age's mood,' cheat by that ?
He said ;
' we boast, and do not. We Now, not even Romney.'
l)ut up Cousin, you are sad.
'

Hostelry signs where'er we lodge a day. Did all your social labor at Leigh Hall
Some red colossal cow with mighty And elsewhere, come to nought then 1
paps It 7vas nought,* '

A Cyclops' fingers could not strain to He answered mildly. 'There is room

milk ; indeed
Then bring out presently our saucer-full For statues still, in this large world of
Of curds. We
want more quiet in our God's,
works. But not for vacuums, so I am not sad : —
More knowledge of the bounds in which Not sadder than is good for what I am.'
we work ; My vain phalanstery dissolved itself;
More knowledge that each individual My men and women of disordered lives,
man I brought in orderly to dine and sleep.
Remains an Adam to the general race. Broke up those waxen masks I made
Constrained to see, like Adam, that he them to wear.
keep With fierce contortions of the natural
His personal state's condition honestly. face ;

Or vain all thoughts of his to help the And cursed me for my tyrannous con-
world, straint
Which still must be developed from its In forcing crooked creatures to live
one straight ;

[fbettered in its many. indeed. We And set the country hounds upon my
Who think to lay it out new like a. park, back
We take a work on us which is not To bite and tear me for my wicked
man's. deed
For God alone sits far enough above Of trying to do good without the church
To speculate so largely. None of us Or even the squires, Aurora. Do you
(Not Romney Leigh) is mad enough to mind
say. Your ancient neighbours? The great
We'll have a grove of oaks upon that book-club teems
slope With 'sketches,' summaries,' and Mast
'

And sink the need of acorns. Govern- tracts but twelve.

'

ment, On socialistic troublers of close bonds

If veritable and lawful, is not given Betwixt the generous rich and grateful
By imposition of the foreign hand. poor.
Nor chosen from a pretty pattern-book The vicar preached from '
Revelations,'
Of some domestic idealogue who sits (till
And coldly chooses empire, where as The doctor woke) and found me with
well '
the frogs
 —
' — : —
AURORA LEIGH.

On three successive Sundays ; ay, and '

In that pernicious prison of Leigh Hall
stopped '
With all his murderers ! Give another
To weep a little (for he's getting old) name
That such perdition should o'ertake a '
And
say Leigh Hell, and burn it up
man with fire.'
Of such fair acres, — in the parish, too ! And so they did at last, Aurora.'
He printed his discourses by request,' '
'Did?'
And if your book shall sell as his did,
then '
You never heard it, cousin ? Vincent's
Your verses are less good than I sup- news
pose. Came stinted, then.'
The women of the neighbourhood sub- '
They did ? they burnt Leigh Hall ?

scribed.
And sent me a copy bound in scarlet silk, '
You're sorry, dear Aurora ? Yes
Tooled edges, blazoned with the arms of indeed.
Leigh : They did it perfectly : a thorough
I own that touched me.' work.
What, the pretty ones
'
? And not a failure, this time. Let us
Poor Romney !
grant
Otherwise the effect was small.
'
'Tis somewhat easier, though, to burn a
1 had my windows broken once or twice house
By liberal peasants naturally incensed Than build a system :
— yet that's easy,
At such a vexer of Arcadian peace. too.
Who would not let men call their wives In a dream. Books, pictures, ay, the —
their own pictures what. !

To kick like Britons, and made ob- You think your dear Vandykes would
stacles give them pause ?
When things went smoothly as a baby Our proud ancestral Leighs with those
drugged, peaked beards.
Toward freedom and starvation bring- ; Or bosoms white as foam thrown up on
ing down rocks
The wicked London tavern-thieves and From the old-spent wave. Such calm
drabs defiant looks
To affront the blessed hillside drabs and They flared up with now nevermore !

thieves to twit
With mended morals, quotha, fine — The bones in the family-vault with ugly
new lives ! death.
My windows paid for^t. I was shot at, Not one was rescued, save the Lady
once. Maud,
By an active poacher who had hit a Who threw you down, that morning you
hare were born.
From the other barrel, (tired of springe- The undeniable lineal mouth and chin
ing game To wear for ever for her gracious sake ;

So long upon my acres, undisturbed. For which good deed I saved her the :

And restless for the country's virtue, rest went

yet And you, you're sorry, cousin. Well,
—
He missed me) ay, and pelted very oft for me.
In riding through the village. There ' With my
pha!an.sterians safely out,
all
he goes (Poor hearts, they helped the burners,
•
Who'd drive away our Christian gen- it was said.

tlefolks, And certainly a few clapped hands and

• To catch us undefended in the trap yelled)
' He baits with poisonous cheese, and The ruin did not hurt me as it might,
lock us up As when for instance I was hurt one day
 —
AURORA LEIGH. i6i

A certain letter being destroyed. In For allthose wild beasts, yelfing, curs-
fact, ing round.
To see the great house flare so . . oaken Were suddenly silent, while you counted
floors, five.
Our fathers made so fine with rushes So silent, that you heard a young bird
once fall
Before our mothers furbished them with From the top-nest in the neighbouring
trains. rookery.
Carved wainscoats, panelled walls, the Through edging over-rashly toward the
favourite slide light.
For draining off a martyr, (or a rogue) The old rooks had already fled too far.
The echoing galleries, half a half-mile To hear the screech they fled with,
long. though you saw
And all the various stairs that took you Some flying still, like scatterings of dead
up leaves
And took you down, and took you round In autumn-gusts, seen dark against the
about sky :

Upon their slippery darkness, recollect, All flying, — ousted, like the house of
All helping to keep up one blazing jest ; Leigh.
The flames through all the casements
pushing forth Dear Romney !

Like red-hot devils crinkled into snakes.

All signifying, —
'Look you, Romney A fine sight
'Evidently 'twould have been
for a poet, sweet, like you.
Leigh, To make'the verse blaze after. I myself.
' We save the people from your saving,
Even I, felt somethmg in the grand old
here, trees,
' Yet so as by fire ! we make a pretty ^'V^lich stood that moment like brute
show Druid gods
' Besides, —and that's the best you've Amazed upon the rim of ruin, where.
ever done.' As into a blackened socket, the great fire
Had dropped, —
still throwing up splin-

—To see this, almost moved myself to ters now and then
clap ! To show them grey with all their centu-
The vale '
et plaude ' came too with ries.
effect Left there to witness that on such a day
When, in the roof fell, and the fire that The House went out.'
paused.
Stunned momently beneath the stroke '
Ah !'

of slates While you counted

'
five
And tumbling rafters, rose at once and Iseemed to feel a little like a Leigh,
roared, But then it passed, Aurora. A child
And wrapping the whole house, (which cried.
disappeared And I had enough to think of what to do
In a mounting whirlwind of dilated With all those houseless wretches in the
flame,) dark.
Blew upward, straight, its drift of fiery
And ponder where they'd dance the
chaff next time, they
In the face of heaven, which blench- . .
Who had burnt the viol.'
ed, and ran up higher.' Did you think of that ?
'

Who burns his viol will not dance, I

'
Poor Romney !'
know.
'
Sometimes when I dream,' he said, To cymbals, Romney.'
• 1 hear the silence after, 'twas so still. O my sweet sad voice,'
'
 ! ! —
lURORA LEIGH.

He cried,
— ' O voice that speaks and To try just God's. Humility's so good.
overcomes When pride's impossible. Mark us,
The sun is silent, but Aurora speaks.' how we make
Our virtues, cousin, from our worn-out
' Alas,' I said ;
'
I speak I know not sins.
what : Which smack of them from henceforth.
I'm back in childhood, thinking as a Is it right,
child, For instance, to wed here while you
A foolish —
fancy will it make you smile ? love there 't

I shall not from the window of my room And yet because a man sins once, the
Catch sight of those old chimneys any sin
Cleaves him, in necessity to sin.
to
That if he sinned not so, to damn him-
' No more,' he answered. '
If you pushed self,

one day He sins so, to damn others with himself :

Through all the green hills to our father's And thus to wed here, loving there, be-
house. comes
You'd come upon a great charred circle
A duty. Virtue buds a dubious leaf
where Round mortal brows your ivy's better, ;

The patient earth was singed an acre dear.

round ;
—Yet she, 'tis certam, is my very wife.
With one stone-stair, symbolic of mv The very lamb left mangled by the
life.
wolves
Ascending, winding, leading up to
Through my own bad shepherding and :

Jiought could 1 choose

'Tis worth a poet's seeing. Will you But take her on my shoulder past this
go?' stretch
Of rough, uneasy wilderness, poor lamb.

Imade no answer. Had I any right

Poor child, poor child? Aurora, my —
beloved,
To weep with this man, that 1 dared to I will not vex you any more to-night.
speak !
But having spoken what I came to say.
A woman stood between his soul and The rest shall please you. What she
mine. can in me,
And waved us off from touching ever- Protection, tender liking, freedom, ease.
more She shall have surely, liberally, for her
With those unclean white hands of hers. And hers, Aurora. Small amends they'll
Enough. make
We had burnt our viols and were silent. For hideous evils which she had not
So. known
The silence lengthened till it pressed. I Except by me, and for this imminent
spoke, loss,
To breathe :
'
I think you were ill after- This presence of a gracious friend.
forfeit
ward.' Which also she must forfeit for my sake.
Since, .... drop your hand in mine a
More ill,' he answered, ,
' had been moment, sweet.
scarcely ill. We're parting Ah, my snowdrop,
!

I hoped this feeble fumbling at life's what a touch.

knot As if the wind had swept it off! you
Might end concisely, —but I failed to grudge
die. Your gelid sweetness on my palm but
As formerly I failed to live, — and thus so,
Grew willing, having tried all other A moment? angry, that I could not
ways. bear
 ——
AURORA LEIGH.

You . . "speaking, breathing, living, side I'm somewhat dull still in the manly art
by side Of phrase and metaphrase. Why, any
With some one called my
wife and . . man
live, myself? Can carve a score of white Loves out of
Nay, be not
stand !
cruel — you must under- snow,
As Buonarotti in my Florence there.
Your lightest footfall on a floor of mine And set them on the wall in some safe
Would shake the house", my lintel being shade.
uncrossed As safe, sir, as your marriage ! very
'Gainst angels henceforth it is night
: good :

with me. Though if a woman took one from the

And so, henceforth, I put the shutters ledge
up: To put it on the table by her flowers.
Auroras must not come to spoil my And let it mind her of a certain friend,
dark.' 'Twould drop at once, (so better,) would
not bear
He smiled so feebly, with an empty Her nail-mark even, where she took it
hand up
Stretched sideways from me, — as indeed A little tenderly ; so best, I say :

he looked For me, 1 would not touch the fragile

To any one but me to give him help, thing.
And while the moon came suddenly out And risk to spoil it half an hour before
full. The sun shall shine to melt it leave it :

The double rose of our Italian moons. there.

Sufficient plainly for the heaven and I'm plain at speech, direct in purpose :

earth, when
(The stars, struck dumb and washed Ispeak, you'll take the meaning as it is.
away in dews And not allow for puckerings in the silk
Of glory, and the mountains steeped By clever stitches. I'm a woman, sir.
In divine languor) lie the man, ap- And use the woman's figures naturally.
peared As you the male license. So, I wish
So pale and patient, like the marble you well.
man I'm simply sorry for the griefs you've
A sculptor puts his personal sadness in had
To join his grandeur of ideal thought, And not for your sake only, but man-
As if his mallet struck me from my kind's.
height This race is never grateful : from the
Of passionate indignation, I who had first.
risen One fills their cup at supper with pure
Pale, — doubting, paused, .... Was wine,
Romney mad indeed? Which back they give at cross-time on
Had all this wrong of heart made sick a sponge,
the brain ? In vinegar and gall.'
If gratefuller,'
Then quiet, with .1 sort of tremulous He murmured, — ' by
'

so much less pitia-

pride, ble !

'
Go, cousin,' I said coldly ' a farewell ; God's self would never have come down
Was .sooner spoken 'twixt a pair of to die,
friends Could man have thanked him for it.'
In those old days, than seems to suit you Happily '

now. 'Tis patent that, whatever,' I resumed,

Howbeit, since then, I've writ a book '
You suffered from this thanklessness
or two, i
of men.
 — - —
i64 AURORA LEIGH.

You sink no more than Moses' bulrush Of sorrow your rich love sits down to
boat pay :

When you once rcHeved of Moses ; for But sweet for love to pay its debt,
if 'tis
you're light, 'lis sweeter slill for love to give its gift.
You're light, my cousin which is well ! And you, be liberal ui the sweeter way.
for you. You can, I think. At least, as touches
And manly. For myself, now mark — me.
me, sir. You owe her, cousin Romney, no
They burnt Leigh Hall but if, con- ; amends.
summated She is not used to hold my gown so fast.

To heightened beyond Lucifers,

devils, You need entreat her now to let it go :

They had burnt instead a star or two of The lady never was a friend of mine.
those —
Nor capable, I thought you knew as
We saw above there just a moment much,
back. Of losing for your sake so poor a prize
Before the moon abolished them, — des- As such a worthless friendship. Be con-
troyed tent.
And riddled them iu ashes through a Good cousin, therefore, both for her and
sieve you !

On the head of the foundering uni- never spoil your dark, nor dull your
I'll
verse, — what then? noon.
If you and I remained still you and I, Nor vex you when you're merry, or at
It could not shift our places as mere rest :

friends. You shall not need to put a shutter up

Nor render decent you should toss a To keep out this Aurora, — though your
phrase north
Beyond the point of actual feeling! Can make Auroras which vex nobody.
nay. Scarce known from night, I fancied let !

You shall not interrupt me : as you said. me add.

We're parting. Certainly, not once or My larks fly higher than some windows.
twice Well,
To-night you've mocked me somewhat, You've read your Leighs. Indeed
or yourself. 'twould shake a house.
And I, at least, have not deserved it so If such as I came in with outstretched
That I should meet it unsurprised. But hand
now. Still warm and thrilling from the clasp
Enough we're parting
: parting. . . of one . .

Cousin Leigh, Of one we know, . . to acknowledge,

I wish you well through all the acts of palm to palm.
life As mistress there . . the Lady Walde-
And life's relations, wedlock not the mar.'
least.
And it shall ' please me,' in your words, '
Now God be with us '
. . with a sudden
to know clash
You yield your wife, protection, free- Of voice he interrupted — ' what name's
dom, ease, that ?
And very tender liking. May you live You spoke a name, Aurora.'
Sj happy with her, Romney, that your '
Pardon me ;

friends I would that, Romney, I could name

May praise her for it. Meantime some your wife
of us Nor wound you, yet be worthy.'
Are wholly dull in keeping ignorant '
Are we mad ?'
Of what she has suffered by you, jnd He echoed 'wife! mine! Lady Wal-
what debt demar !
 —

AUK ORA LEIGH.

I think you said my wife.' He sprang At last then, peerless cousin, we are
to his feet, peers
And threw his noble head back toward At last we're even. Ah, you've left
the moon your height,
As one who swims against a stormy sea, And here upon my level we take hands.
And laughed with such a helpless, hope- And here I reach you to forgive you,
less scorn, sweet.
I stood and trembled. And that's a fall, Aurora. Long ago
You seldom imderstood me, — but before,
'May God judge me could not blame you. Then, you only
He said at last,
— ' 1 came convicted
so,' I
seemed
here. So high above, you could not see be-
And humbled sorely if not enough. I low ;

came. But now I breathe, but now I pardon — !

Because this woman from her crystal —nay.

soul We're parting. Dearest, men have
Had shown me something which a man burnt house. my
calls light : Maligned my
motives, but not one, I —
Because formerly, I sinned by her
too, swear.
As then and ever since I have, by God. Has wronged my soulasthis Aurora has.
Through arrogance of nature,— though I Who called the Lady Waldemar my
loved . . wife.
Whom best, I need not say, since that . .

is writ '
Not married to her ! yet you said '
. .

Too plainly in the book of my misdeeds: '

Again ?
And thus I came here to abase myself. '
Nay, read the lines '
(he held a letter
And fasten, kneeling, on her regent out)
brows ' She sent you through me.'
A garland which I startled thence one By the moonlight there,
day I tore the meaning out with passionate
Of her beautiful June-youth. But here haste
again Much rather than I read it. Thus it
I'm baffled fail in ! — my abasement as ran.
My aggrandisement : no room
there's
left for me
At any woman's foot who misconceives
My nature, purpose, possible actions. NINTH BOOK.
What !

Are you the Aurora who made large my Even thus. I pause to write it out at
dreams length,
To frame your greatness ? you conceive The letter of the Lady Waldemar.
so small ?
You stand so less than woman, through '
I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you
being more. this,
And lose your natural instinct, hke a He says he'll do it. After years of love,
beast, Or what is called so, —
when a woman
Through intellectual culture? since in- frets
deed And fools upon one string of a man's
Ido not think that any common she name,
Would dare adopt such monstrous for- And fingers for ever till it breaks,—
it

geries He may perhaps do for her such thing,

For the legible life-signature of such And slie accept it without detriment
As I, with all my
blots with all : my Although she should not love him any
blots I
more.
 — — : ; ; ; :

t66 AURORA LEIGH.

And I, who do not love him, nor love Although the world had jeered me prop-
you, erly
Nor you, Aurora, choose you shall re- — For taking up with Cupid at his worst,
pent The silver quiver worn off on his hair.
Your most ungracious letter and confess, ' No, no,' he murmured, 'no, she loves
Constrained by his convictions, (he's me not
convinced) '
Aurora Leigh does better: bring her
You've wronged me foully. Are you book
made so ill, '
And read it softly. Lady Waldemar,
You woman — to impute such ill to ? me '
Until I thank your friendship more for
We both had mothers, —lay in their that
bosom once. 'Than even for harder service.' So I
And, after all, I thank you, Aurora read
Leigh, Your book, Aurora, for an hour that
For proving to myself that there are day
things I its pauses, marked its emphasis ;
kept
1 would not do, . not for my life . . . My voice, empaled upon its hooks of
nor him . . rhyme,
Though something I hare somewhat Not once would writhe, nor quiver, nor
overdone, revolt
For instance, when I went to see the I read on calmly, calmly shut it up. —
gods Observing, There's some merit in the
'

One morning on Olympus, with a step book ;

That shook the thunder from a certain '

And yet the merit in't is thrown away
cloud. '
As chances still with women if we
Committing myself vilely. Could I think, write
The Muse 1 pulled my heart out from '
Or write not: we want string to tie our
my breast flowers,
To soften, had herself a sort of heart, '
So drop them as we walk, which serves
And loved my mortal ? He, at least to show
loved lier, '
The way we went. Good morning,
Iheard him say so 'twas my recom- ; Mister Leigh
pense. '
Youll find another reader the next
When, watching at his bedside fourteen time.
days, '
A woman wlio does better than to love,
He broke out like a flame at whiles '
I hate ; she will do nothing very well
Between the heats of fever Is it thou? , .
' '
Male poets are preferable, straining
'
Breathe closer, sweetest mouth and !
'
less
when at last '
And teaching more.' I triumphed o'er
The fever gone, the wasted face extinct you both.
As if it irked him much to know me And left him. .

there, When I saw him afterward,

'

He said,'Twaskind, 'twas good, 'twas

'
I had read your shameful letter, and my
womanly,' heart.
(And fifty praises to excuse no love) He came with health recovered, strong
' But
was the picture safe he had ven- though pale.
tured for ?
'
Lord Howe and he, a corteous pair of
And then, half wandering . •
'
I liave friends,
loved her well, To say what men dare say to women,
* Although she could not love me.' when
Say mstead,' Their debtors. But I stopped them with
'

I answered, she does love you.'

'
'Twas — a word,
my turn And proved I had never trodden such a.
To rave : I would have married him so road
changed, To carry so much dirt upon my shoe.
 : ' :

AURORA LEIGH. 167

Then, putting into it something of dis- And broke in, ' Henceforth she was called
dain, his wife.
I asked forsooth his pardon, and my ' His wife required no succour : he was
own, bound
For having done no better than to love, '
To Florence, to resume this broken
And that not wisely,— though 'twas long bond
ago, '
Enough so. Both were happy, he and
And had been mended radically since. Howe,
him, as I tell you now Miss To acquit me of the heaviest charge of
I told
Leigh,
'

all
—
And proved I took some trouble for his — At which I shut my tongue against niv
sake fly
(Because I knew he did not love the And struck him ; 'Would he carry, — he
girl) was just,
To spoil my hands with working in tlie '
A letterhorn nie to Aurora Leigh,
stream '
And ratify from his authentic mouth
Of that poor bubbling nature, — till she '
My answer to her accusation Yes, .' '
— '

went, '
If such a letter were prepared in time.'
Consigned to one I trusted, my own — He's just, your cousin, ay, abhor- —
maid, rently.
Who once had lived full five months in He'd wash his hands in blood to keep
my
house, them clean.
(Dressed hair superbly) with a lavish And so, cold, courteous, a mere gentle-
purse man,
To carry to Australia where she had left He bowed, we parted.
A husband, said she. If the creature Parted. Face no more,
'

lied. Voice no more, love no more wiped !

The mission failed, we all do fail and lie wholly out

—
More or less and I'm sorry — which is Like some ill scholar's scrawl from heart
all and slate.—
Expected from us when we fail the most Ay, spit on and so wiped out utterly
And go to church to own it. What I By some coarse scholar I have been 1

meant, too coarse.

Was just the best for him, and me, and Too human. Have we business, in our
her . . rank,
Best even for Marian ! — I am sorry for't. With blood i' the veins.'' I will have
And very sorry. Yet my creature said henceforth none.
She saw her stop to speak in Oxford Not even to keep the colour at my lip.
Street A rose is pink and pretty without blood ;
To one no matter I had sooner cut
. . ! Why not a woman ? When we've
My hand off (though 'twere kissed the played in vain
hour before. The game, to adore,— we have resources
And promised a Duke's troth-ring for still.
the next) And can play on at leisure, being
Than crush her silly head with so much adored :

wrong. Here's Smith already swearing at my

Poor child ! I would have mended it feet
with gold. That I'm the typic She. Away with
Until it gleamed like St. Sophia's dome Smith !—
When all the faithful troop to morning Smith smacks of Leigh, — and, hence-
prayer forth I'll admit
But he, he nipped the bud of such a No socialist within three crinoHnes,
thought To live and have his being. But for
With that cold Leigh look \\hich I fan- you.
cied once, Though insolent your letter and absurd,
 — — ;' '

AURORA LEIGH.
And though I hate you frankly,— take And hollow of my soul, which opens
my Smith ! out
For when you have seen this famous To what, except for you, had been my
marriage tied, heaven,
A most inispotted Erie to a noble Leigh, And is instead, a place to curse by !

(His love astray on one he should not Love.'

love)
Howbeit you may not want his love, be- An active kind of curse. I stood there
ware, cursed
You'll want some comfort. So I leave Confounded. I had seized and caught
you Smith ; the sense
Take Smith !— he talks Leigh's snbjecis, Of the letter with its twenty stinging
somewhat worse ; snakes.
Adopts a thought of Leigh's, and dwin- In a moment's sweep of eyesight, and I
dles stood
it

Goes leagues beyond,

;

to be no incli be- Dazed. —

Ah not married ?
' !
—
hind ;
'
You mistake,' he said,
Will mind you of liini, as a slioe-string '
I'm married. Is not Marian Erie my
may wife ?
_

V>{ a man and women, when ihey are

: As God sees things, I have a wife and
made like you, child
Grow tender to a shoe-string, foot-jirint And I, as I'm a man who honours God,
even, Am here to claim them as my child and
Adore averted shoulders ina glass, wife.'
And memories of what, present once,
was loathed. I felt It hard to breathe, much less to
And yet, you loathed not Ronniey, speak.
though you played Nor word of mine was needed. Some
At 'fox and goose' about him with your one else
soul : Was there for answering. ' Romney,'
Pass over fox, you rub out fox, — ignore she began,
A feeling, you eradicate it, —the act's '
My great good angel, Romney.'
Identical. Then at first,
I knew Marian Erie was beautiful.
that
wish you joy. Miss Leigh,
'
i She stood there, still and pallid as a
You've made a happy marrirge for your saint,
friend. Dilated, like a saint in ecstacy.
And all the honour, well-assorted love, As if the floating moonshine interposed
Derives from you who love him, whom Betwixt her foot and the earth, and raised
he loves ! her up
You need not wish me joy to think of it, To float upon it. ' I had left my child,
I have so much. Observe, Aurora Leigh, Who sleeps,' she said, ' and having
Your droop of eyelid is the same as his, drawn this way
And, but for you, I might have won his I heard you speaking, friend !— Con- . .

love. firm me now.

And, to you, I have shown my naked You take this Marian, such as wicked
heart, men
For which three things I hate, hate, hate Have made her, for your honourable
you. Hush, wife ?

Suppose a fourth !— I cannot choose but

think The thrilling, solemn, proud, pathetic
That, with him, I were virtuouser than voice.
you He stretched his arms out toward the
Without him : so I hate vou from this thrilling voice,
gulf As if to draw it on to his embrace. ,
 ' '

AURORA LEIGH. 169

— * I take her as God made her, and as You will not tell him, thougli we're inno-
men cent
Must fail to unmake her, for my hon- We are not harmless, . . and that botli
oured wife.' our harms
Will stick to his good smooth noble life
like burrs,
She never raised her eyes, nor took a
step,
Never to drop off though lie shakes the
cloak ?
But stood there in her place, and spoke
again.
You've been my friend you will not now
:

<— ' You

take this Marian's child, which be his ?
her shame
is
You've known him that he's worthy of a
friend.
In sight of men and women, for your
child,
And you're his cousin, lady, after all.
Of whom you will not ever feel ashamed ? And therefore more than free to take his
part.
Explaining, since the nest is surely
The thrilling, tender, proud, pathetic spoilt.
voice. And Marian what you know lier, — tliough
He stepped on toward it, still with out- a wife,
stretched arms. The world would hardly understand her
As if to quench upon his breast that case
voice. Of being just
— May God so father me, as I do him,
'
him,
hurt and honest ; while for

And so forsake me as I let him feel 'Twouid ever twit liim with his bastard
He's orphaned haply. Here I take the child
child And married harlot. Speak, while yet
To share my cup, to slumber on my there's time:
knee. You would not stand and let a good
To play his loudest gambol at my foot, man's dog
To hold my finger in the public ways. Turn round and rend him, because his,
Till none shall need inquire, Whose '
and reared
The
child is this,'
gesture saying so tenderly, ' My
Of a generous breed, — and will you let
his act,
own.' Because it's generous? Speak. I'm
bound to you,
She stood a moment silent in her place ; And I'll be bound by only you, in this '
Then turning toward me very slow and The thrilling solemn voice, so passion-
cold—
— ' And —
you, what say you ? — will you
less,
Sustained, yet low, without arise or fall.
blame me much, As one who had authority to speak,
If,careful for that outcast child of mine, And not as Marian.
I catch this hand that's stretched to me I looked up to feel
and him. If God stood near me, and beheld his
Nor dare to leave him friendless in the heaven
world Asblueas Aaron's priestly robe appeared
Where men have stoned me ? Have I To Aaron when lie took it off to die.
not the right And then I spoke—' Accept the gift, I
To take so mere an aftermath from life. say,
Else found so wholly bare? Or is it My Marian, and be satisfied.
sister
wrong The hand that gives, has still a soul be-
To let your cousin, for a generous bent. hind
Put out liis ungloved fingers among Which will not let it quail for having
briars given.
To set a tumbling bird's nest somewhat Though foolish wordlings talk they know
straight ? not what
 : — ;

I70 AURORA LEIGH.

Of what they know not. Romney's Before him with a staglike majesty
strong enough Of soft, serene defiance, as she knew —
For this do you be strong to know he's
: He could not touch her, so was tolerant
strong : He had cared to try. She stood there
He stands on Right's side never flinch ; with her great
for him, Drowned eyes, and dripping cheeks, and
As if he stood on the other. You'll be strange sweet smile
bound That lived through all, as if one lield a
By me ? I am
a woman of repute ; light
No fly-blow gossip ever specked my life ; Across a waste of waters, — shook her
My name clean and open as this hand.
is head
Whose glove there's not a man dares To keep some thoughts down deeper in
blab about her soul,—
As if he had touched it freely. Here's Tlien, white and tranquil like a summer-
my hand cloud
To clasp your hand, my Marian, owned Which, having rained itself to a tardy
as pure ! peace,
As pure, as —
I'm a woman and n Stands still in lieaveir as if it ruled the
Leigh !- day.
And, as I'm both, I'll witness to the Spoke out again —
Although, my gener-
'

world ous friend,

That Romney Leigh is honoured in his Since last we met and parted you're i:n.
choice changed.
Who chooses Marian for his honoured And, having promised faith to Marian
wife.'
Maintain it, as she were not changed at
Her broad wild woodland eves shot out a all;
light; And though that's worthy, though that's
Her smile was wonderful for rapture. fullof balm
'
Tlianks, To any conscious spirit of a girl
My great Aurora.' Forward then she Who once has loved you as 1 loved you
sprang. once,
And dropping her impassioned spaniel Yet still it will not make her . . if she's
head dead,
With all its brown abandonment of curls And gone away where none can give or
On Romney's feet, we heard the kisses take
drawn In marriage, —able to revive, return
Through sobs upon the foot, upon the
ground—
And wed you, —will Romney? Here's
it
the point
'
O Romney O my angel O unchanged.
! ! O plainer: you and I
friend, we'll see it
Though since we've parted I have passed Must never, never, never join hands so;
the grave ! —
Nay, let me say it, for I said it first
But Death itself could only better thee. To God, and placed it, rounded to an
Not change thee \—Thee 1 do not thank oath,
at all Far, far above the moon there, at His
I but thank God who made thee what feet,
than art, Assurely as I wept just now at yours, —
So wholly godlike.' We never, never, never join hands so.
\yhen he tried in vain And now, be patient with me do not ;

To raise her to his embrace, escaping think

thence I'm speaking from a false humility.
As any leaping fawn from a huntsman's The truth is, I am grown so proud with
grasp grief.
She bounded off and 'lighted beyond And He has said so often through hit
reach, nights
 : — •

AURORA LEIGH.
And through his mornings, ' Weep a I do not love you. Ah well ! catch my
little still, hands.
*
Thou foolish Marian, because women Miss Leigh, and burn into my eyes with
must, yours,
'
But do not blush at all except for sin,'— I swear 1 do rot love him. Did I once.''
That I, who felt myself unworthy once 'Tis said that women have been bruised
Of virtuous Romney and his higli-born to death.
race, And yet, if once they loved, that love of
Have come to learn, . . a woman poor theirs
or rich, Could never be drained out with all their
Despised or honoured, is a human soul blood:
And what her soul is,— that, she is her- I've heard such things and pondered.
self. Did 1 indeed
Although she should be spit upon of Love once ? or did I only worship ?

men, Yes,
As is the pavement of the churches Perhaps, O friend, you up so high
I set
here, Above all actual good or hope of good
Still good enough to pray in. And be- Or fear of evil, all that could be mine,
ing chaste I haply set you above love itself
And honest, and inclined to do ihe And out of reach of these poor women's
right. arms,
And love the truth, and live my life out Angelic Romney. What was in my
green thought ?
And smooth beneath his steps, I should To be your slave, your help, your toy,
not fear your tool.
To, make hirh thus a less uneasy time To be your love . . I never thought of
Than many a happier woman. Very that.
proud To give you love . . still less. I gave
You see me. Pardon, that I set a trap you love.''
To hear a confirmation in your voice . . I think I did not give you anything
Both yours and yours. It is so good to I was but only yours, upon my knees, — ;

know All yours, in soul and body, in head

'Twas really God who said the same be- and heart,
fore : A creature you had taken from the
For thus it is in heaven, that first God ground,
speaks, Still crumbling through your fingers to
And then his angels. Oh, it does me your feet
good. To join the dust she came from. Did I
It wipes me clean and sweet from devil's love.
dirt. Or did I worship? judge, Aurora Leigh
That Romney Leigh should think me But, if indeed I loved, 'twas long ago, — !

worthy still So long before the sun and moon were

!

Of being liis trueand honourable wife ! made.

Henceforth I need not say, on leaving Before the hells were open, ah, before —
earth, I heard my child cry in the desert night,
I had o glory in it. For the rest. And knew he had no father. It may
The reason's ready (master, angel, be
friend. I'm not as strong as other women are.
Be patient with me) wherefore you and I Who, torn and crushed, are not undone
Can never, never, never join hands so. from love.
1 know you'll not be angry like a man It may be, I am colder than the dead,
{Yov yon are none) when I shall tell the Who, being dead, love always. Eut for
truth. me
Which is, I do not love you, Romney Once killed, . . this ghost of Marian
Leigh, loves no more,
 — : i

172 AURORA LEIGH.

No more . . except the child ! . . no That's worn as bold and open as a smile, ,

more at all. To vex my darling when he's asked his;

I told your coosin, sir, that I was dead ; name i

And now, she thinks I'll get up from my And has no answer? What! a happier
grave. child
And wear my chin-cloth for a wedding Than mine, my best, who laughed so —
veil, loud to-night
And glide along the churchyard like a He could not sleep for pastime? Nay,
bride, I swear

While all the dead keep whispering By life and love, that, if I lived like
through the withes, some,
'
You would be better in your place with And loved like loved . . some . . ay, 1

us, you, Romney

Leigh,
'
You pitiful corruption !
' At the As some love (eyes that have wept so
thought. much, see clear)
The damps breaks out on me like lep- I've room for no more children in my
rosy arms,
Although I'm clean. Ay, clean as Ma- My kisses are all melted on one mcuth,
Erie
rian : I would not push my darling to a stool
As Marian Leigh, I know, I were not To dandle babies. Here's a hand shall
clean: keep
I have not so much life that I should For ever clean without a marriage-ring, y
love, To tend my boy until he cease to need jj
. . Except the child. Ah God I could 1 One steadying finger of it, and desert j

not bear (Not miss) his mother's lap, to sit with 'j

To see my darling on a good man's men. i]

knees And when I miss him (not he me) I'll j

And know by such a look, or such a come
sigh. And say, '
Now give me some (if Rom- I\
Or such a silence, that he thought some- ney's work,
times, To help your outcast orphans of the
* This child was fathered by some cursed world,
wretch '
. . And comfort grief with grief.' For you, ;

For, Romney,— angels are less tender- meantime, i

wise Most noble Romney, wed a noble wife, I

Than God and mothers: even you And open on each other your great
|
would think souls, 1

What -we think never. He is ours, the I need rot farther bless you. If I dared *

But strain and touch her in her upper

'

child;
And we would sooner vex a soul in sphere
heaven And say, '
Come down to Romney — pay
By coupling with it the dead body's my debt !
'

thought, I should be joyful with the stream of

It left behind itin a last month's grave, joy
Than, in my child, see other than . . Sent through me. But the moon is m
my child. my face . .

We only, never call him fatherless I —

dare not, though I guess the name
Who has God and his mother. O my he loves ;

babe, I'm learned with my studies of old days.

My pretty, pretty blossom, an ill-wind Remembering how he crushed his under- '

Once blew upon my breast can any ! lip

think When some one came and spoke, or did
I'd have another, — one called happier, not come
A fathered child, with father's love and Aurora, I could touch her with my hand.
race And fly, because I dare not.'
 — : — — ; ' ; —
AURORA LEIGH. 173

She was gone. To creak i' the wind and drive the world-
He smiled so sternly that I spoke in crows off
in haste. From pecking in her garden. Straw can
' Forgive her —she sees dearly for her- fill

self: A ho'e to keep out vermin. Now. at

Her instinct's holy.' last,
I own heaven's angels round her life
'
/ forgive.' ' he said, suffice
'
only marvel how she sees so sure,
I To fight the rats of our society,
While others . there lie paused,
'
. Without this Ronmey I can see at
:

then hoarse, abrupt, last ;

_
' Aurora, you forgive us, her and me ? And here is ended my pretention which
For her, the thing she sees, poor loyal The most pretended. Over-proud of
child. course.
If once corrected by the thing I know, Even so !---but not so stupid blind . .

Had been unspoken, since she loves you . that I,

.

well. Whom thus the great Taskmaster of the

Has leave to love you: — while for me, world
alas. Has set to meditate mistaken work,
If once or twice I let my
heart escape My dreary face against a dim blank wall
This night, . . remember, where hearts Throughout man's natural lifetime,
slip and fall could pretend
They break beside: we're parting, Or wish O love, I have loved you !
, .

parting, — ah. O my soul,

You do not love, that you should surely I have lost you !
—but I swear by all
know yourself.
What that word means. Forgive, be And all you might have been to me these
tolerant ; years
It had not been, but that I felt myself If that June-morning had not failed my
So safe in impuissance and despair, hope,
I could not hurt you though I tossed my I'm not so bestial, to regret that day
arms This night,-— this night, which still to
And sighed my soul out. The most you is fair
utter wretch Nay, not so blind, Aurora. I attest
Will choose his postures when he comes Those "tars above us which I cannot
to die. see' . . .

However in the presence of a queen

And j'ou'll forgive me some unseemly * You cannot.' . .

spasms '
That if Heaven itself should stoop.
Which meant no more than dying. Do Remix the lots, and give me another
you think chance,
I had ever come here i;i my perfect I'd say, ' No other ! '
— I'd record my
mind. blank.
Unless I had come here in my settled Aurora never should be wife of mine.'
mind '
Not see the stars .''

Bound Marian's, bound to keep the bond '

'Tis worse still,not to see
and give To find your hand, although we're part-
My name, my house, my hand, the ing, dear.
things I could. A moment let me hold it ere we part
To Marian ? For even I could give as And understand my last words - these at
much : last !

Even I, affronting her exalted soul I would not have you thinking when I'm-
By a supposition that she wanted these, gone
Could act the husband's coat and hat set That Romney dared to hanker for your
up love
 ; : — —
AURORA LEIGH.
In thought or vision, if attainable, Scarce lacked that thunderbolt of the
(Which certainly for me it never was) falling beam
And wished to use it for a dog to-day. Which nicked me on the forehead as I
To help the blind man stumbling. God passed
forbid ! The gallery-door with a burden. Say
And now I know he held you in his heaven's bolt,
palm, Not William Erie's, not Marian's fa-
And kept you open-eyed to all my faults, ther's, — tramp
To save you at last from such a dreary And poacher, whom I found for what he
end. was.
Believe me, dear, that if I had known And, eager for her sake to rescue him.
like Him Forth swept from the open highway of
What loss was coming on me, I had the world,
done Road-dust and all,— till like a woodland
As well in this as He has. — Farewell boar
you Most naturally unwilling to be tamed,
Who are still my light, — farewell ! How He notched me with his tooth. But not
late it is: a word
I know that, now : you've been too pa- To Marian and I do not think, be-
!

tient, sweet. sides.

I will but blow my whistle toward the He turned the tilting of the beam my
lane. way,—
And some one comes . . the same who And if he laughed, as many swear, poor
brought me here. wretch.
Get in — Good night.' Nor he nor I supposed the hurt so deep.
A
moment. Heavenly Christ
'
! We'll hope his next laugh may be mer-
A moment. Speak once, Romney. 'Tis rier,
not true. In a better cause.'
I hold your hands, I look into your ' Bhnd, Romney?'
face — Ah, my friend.
'

You see me ? '

You'll learn to say it in a cheerful voice.
' No more than the blessed stars. I, desponded.
too, at first To be blind,
Be blessed too, Aurora. Nay, my Turned out of nature, mulcted as a man.
sweet, Refused the daily largesse of the sun
You tremble. Tender-hearted ! Do To humble creatures ! When the fever's
you mind heat
Of yore, dear, how you used to cheat old Dropped from me, as the flame did from
John, my
house.
And the mice out slilyfrom his traps,
let And me ruined like it, stripped of all
left
Until he marvelled at the soul in mice The hues and shapes of aspectable life,
Which took the cheese and left the A mere bare blind stone in the blaze of
snare ? The same day,
Dear soft heart always 'Twas for this ! A man, upon the outside of the earth.
I grieved As dark as ten feet under, in the grave,
Howe's letter never reached you. Ah, Why that seemed hard.'
you had heard No hope?' '

Of illness, — not the issue . . not the A tear you weep,'

!

extent Divine Aurora ? tears upon my hand !

My life long sick with tossings up and I've seen you weeping for a mouse, a
down. bird,
The sudden revulsion in the blazing But, weep for me, Aurora ? Yes, there's
house, hope.
The strain and struggle both of body Not hope of sight, — I could be learned,
and soul, [blood dear, [name
Which left fire running in my veins for And tell you in what Greek and Latin
 —— : :

AURORA LEIGH. 175

The visual nwYC is withered to the root, To take advantage of it. Yet, 'tis hard-
Though the outer eyes appear indiffer- Farewell, Aurora.'
ent, '
But I love you, sir :

Unspotted in their chrystals. But there's And when a woman says she loves a
hope. man,
The spirit, from behind this dethroned The man must hear her, though he
sense. love her not.
Sees, waits in patience till the walls Which hush
. . he has leave to
! . .

break up answer in his turn ;

From which the bas-relief and fresco She will not surely blame him. As for
have dropt me.
There's hope. The man here, once so You call it pity, — think I'm generous?
arrogant 'Twere somewhat easier, for a woman
And restless, so ambitious, for his part, proud
Of dealing with statistically packed As I am, and I'm very vilely proud,
Disorders, (from a pattern on his nail,) To let it pass as such, and press on you
And packing such tilings quite another Love born of pity,— seeing that excellent
way, loves
Is now contented. From his personal Are born so, often, nor the quicklier die,
loss And this would set me higher by the
He has come to hope for others when head
they lose, Than now I stand. No matter : let the
And wear a gladder faith in what we tnith
gain . . Stand high ; Aurora must be humble :

Through bitter experience, compensation no,

sweet. My love's not pity merely. Obviously
Like that tear, sweetest. I am quiet I'm not a generous woman, never was,
now. Or else, of old, I had not looked so near
As tender surely for the suffering world, To weights and measures, grudging you
—
But quiet, sitting at the wall to learn. the power
Content henceforth to do the thing I To give, as first I scorned your power to
can : judge
For, though as powerless, said I, as a For me, Aurora would have no gifts : I
stone, Forsooth, but God's, and I would use —
A stone can still give shelter to a worm. iheftt too
And it is worth while being a stone for According to my pleasure and my choice,
that As He and I were equals,— you below,
There's hope, Aurora.' Excluded from that level of'interchange
'
Is there hope for me ? Admitting benefaction. You were wrong
For me ?— and is there room beneath the In much ? you said so. I was wrong in
stone most.
For such a worm? — And if I came and Oh, most ! You only though to rescue
said . . men
What all this weeping scarce will let me By half-means, half-way, seeing half
say. their wants,
And yet what women cannot say at nil While thinking nothing of your personal
But weeping bitterly (the pride keeps . . gain.
up. But I who saw the human nature broad
Until the lieart breaks under it) . . I At both sides, comprehending too the
love, soul's.
I love you, Romney' . . And all the high necessities of Art,
Silence ' he exclaimed.
' !
Betrayed the thing I saw, and wronged
'
A woman's pity sometimes makes her my own life
mad. [soul For which I pleaded. Passioned to
A man's distraction must not cheat his exalt
 : — ; : : : —
176 AURORA LEIGH.
The artist's instinct in me at the cost And not of virtue. Yet in one respect,
Of putting down the woman's— I forgot Just one, beloved, I am in no wise
No developed here
perfect artist is changed
From any imperfect woznan. Flower I love you, loved you . . loved you first
from root, and last,
And spiritual from natural, grade by And love you on for ever. Now I know
grade I loved you always, Romney. She who
In all our life. A handful of the earth died
To make God's image the despised ! Knew that, and said so; Lady Walde-
poor earth, mar
The healthy odorous earth, I missed, — Knows and Marian
that ; I had
. . :

with it. known same the

The divine Breath that blows the nos- Except that was prouder than I knew.
I
trils out And not so honest. Ay, and as I live,
To ineffable inflatus: ay, the breath I should have died so, crushing in my
Which love is. Art is much, but Love is hand
more. This rose of love, the wasp inside and
Art, my Art, thou'rt much, but Love all.
is more Ignoring ever to my soul and you
!

Art symbolises heaven, but Love is God Both rose and pain, — except for this
And inakes heaven. I, Aurora, fell from great loss.
mine This great despair. — to stand before your
1 would not be a woman like the rest, face
A simple woman who believes in love And know you do not see me where I
And owns the right of love because she stand.
loves. You think, perhaps, I am not changed
And, hearing she's beloved, is satisfied from pride.
With what contents God : I must ana- And that I chiefly bear to say such
lyse, words
Confront, and question ; just as if a fly Because you cannot shame me with your
Refused to warm itself in any sun eyes .'

Till such was hi leone : I must fret calm, grand eyes, extinguished in a
Forsooth, because the month was only storm.
May •
Blown out like lights o'er melancholy
Be faithless of the kind of proffered love. seas,
And captious, lest it miss my dignity. Though shrieked for by the shipwrecked,
And scornful, that my lover sought a — O my Dark,
wife My Cloud, before me every day
—to go
To use . to use
. Romney, I O
my O While I go ever toward the wilderness,
love, 1 would that you could see me bare to
I am changed since then, changed the soul !

wholly, — forindeed If this be pity, 'tis so for myself.

If now you'd stoop so low to take my And not for Romney ; he can stand
l.jve, alone
And use it roughly, without stint or A man like him is never overcome
spare. No woman like me, counts him pitiable
As men use common things with more While saints applaud him. He mistook
behind, the world
(And, in this, ever would be more be- But I mistook my own heart,— and that
hind) slip
To any mean and ordinary end, Was fatal. Romney, — will you leave me
The joy would set me like a star, in here?
heaven, So wrong, so proud, so weak, so imcon-
So Ingh up, I should shine because of soled.
height So mere a woman !
— and I love you so,
 ; — ; :

AURORA LEIGH. «77

I love vou, Romney.' As when the sudden finger of the wind

Could I see his face, Will wipe a row of single city-lamps
I wept so? Did I drop against his To a pure white line of flame, more
breast, luminous
Or did his arms constrain me ? Were Because of obliteration more intense.
;

my cheeks The intimate presence carrying in itself

Hot, overflooded, with my tears, or his? Complete communication, as with souls
And which of our two large explosive Who, having put the body off, perceive
hearts Through simply being. I'hus, 'twas
So shook me? That, I know not. There granted me
were words To know he loved me to the depth and
That broke in utterance . . melted, in height
the fire Of such large natures, ever competent
Embrace, that was convulsion, . . then With grand horizons by the sea or land.
a kiss To love's grand sunrise. Small spheres
As long and silent as the ecstatic night, hold small fires
And deep, deep, shuddering breaths, But he loved largely, as a man can love
which meant beyond Who, baffled in his love, dares live his
Whatever could be told by word or kiss. life.
Accept the ends which God loves for
But what he said . . I have written day his own,
by day, And lift a constant aspect.
With somewhat even writing. Did I From the day
think I brought to England my poor searching
That such a passionate rain would inter- face
cept (An orphan even of my father's grave)
And dash this last page ? What lie said, He had loved me, watched me, watched
indeed, his soul in mine.
I fain would write it down here like the Which in me grew and heightened into
rest love.
To keep it in my eyes, as in my ears, For he, a boy still, had been told the
The heart's sweet scripture, to be read tale
at night Of how a fairy bride from Italy,
When weary, or at morning when afraid. With smells of oleanders in her hair,
And lean my lieaviest oath on when I Was coming through the vines to touch
swear his hand
That when all's done, all tried, all count- Whereat the blood t)f boyhood on the
ed here. palm
All great arts, and all good philosophies. Made sudden heats. And when at last I
This love just puts its hand out in a came.
dream. And lived before him, lived, and rarely
And straight outstretches all things. smiled,
What he said, He smiled and loved me for the thing I
I fain would write. But if an angel spoke was.
In thunder, should we, haply know much As every child will love the year's first
more flower,
Than that it thundered? If a cloud (Not certainly the fairest of the year.
came down But, in which, the complete year seems
And wrapt us wholly, could we draw its to blow)
shape. The poor sad snowdrop, growing be- —
As if on the outside and not overcome ? tween drifts.
And so he spake. His breath against Mysterious medium 'twixt the plant and
my face frost.
Confused his words, yet made them more So faint with winter while so quick with
intense, spring,
 —
' ! !! ;

,78 AURORA LEIGH.

So doubtful if to thaw Itself away No wonder, —since Aurora failed him
With that snow near it. Not that Rom- first

ney Leigh The morning and the evening made his

Had loved me coldly. If I thought so day.
once, But oh, the night ! oh, bitter-sweet ! oh,
It was as if I had held nny hand in fire sweet
And shook for cold. But now I under- O dark, O moon and stars, O ecstasy
stood Of darkness O great mystery of love.
!

For ever, that the very fire and heat In which absorbed, loss, anguish, treas- -,

Of troubling passion in him burned him on's self

clear,
Enlarges rapture,— as a pebble dropt
And shaped to dubious order, word and In some full wine-cup over-brims the
act. wine !

That, just because he loved me over all, While we two sate together, leaned that
All wealth, all lands, all social privilege, night
To which chance made him unexpected So close, my very garments crept and
heir, thrilled
And, just because on all these lesser
With strange electric life ; and both my
gifts, cheeks
Constrained by conscience and the sense Grew red, then pale, with touches from
of wrong my hair
He had stamped with steady hand God's In which his breath was while the gold- ;

arrow-mark en moon
Of dedication to the human need, Was hung before our faces as the badge
He thought it should be so too, with his Of some sublime inherited despair,
love :
Since ever to be seen by only one,—
He, passionately loving, would bring A voice said, low and rapid as a sigh,
down Yet breaking, I felt conscious, from a
His love, his life, his best, (because the smile,
best) 'Thank God, who made me blind, to
His bride of dreams, who walked so still make me see !

and high Shine on, Aurora, dearest light of souls,

Through flowery poems as through Which rul'st for evermore both day and
meadow-grass, night
The dust of golden lilies on her feet, I am happy.'
That she should walk beside him on the I flung closer to his breast.
rocks As sword that, after battle, flings to
In all that clang and hewing out of men. sheath
And help the work of help which was And, in that hurtle of united souls.
his life.
The mystic motions which in common
And prove he kept back nothing, —not moods
his soul. Are shut beyond our sense, broke in on
And when I failed him,— for I failed
us,
him, I
And, as we sate, we felt the old earth
And when it seemed he had missed my spin,
love, — he thought, And all the starry turbulence of worlds
'Aurora makes room for a working-
Swing round us in their audient circles,
noon ; till
And so, self-girded with torn strips of If that same golden moon were overhead
hope. Or if beneath our feet, we did nor know.
Took up his life as if it were for death,
(Just capable of one heroic aim.) And then calm, equal, smooth with
And threw it in the thickest of the world, weights of joy
At which men laughed as if he had His voice rose, as some chief musician's
drowned a <?og. £ong
 ; — : ' ;

AURORA LEIGH. 179

Amid the old Jewish temple's Selah- Works best for men and, if mcjst man :

pause, indeed.
And bade me mark how we two met at He gets his manhood plainest from his
last soul
Upon this inoon-bathed promontory of While obviously this stringent soul itself
earth, Obeys our old law of development
To give up much on each side, then take The Spirit ever witnessing in ours,
all. And Love, the soul of soul, within the
* Beloved,' it sang, '
we must be here to soul.
work Evolving it sublimely. First, God's
And men who work can only work for love.'
men.
And, not to work in vain, must compre- '
And next,' he smiled, '
llie love of
hend wedded souls.
Humanity, and so work humanly. Which still presents that mystery's coun-
And raise men's bodies still by raising terpart.
souls. Sweet shadow-rose, upon the water of
As God did first.' life,

But stand '

upon the earth,' Of such a mystic substance, Sharon
I said, 'to raise them, (this is human gave
too ; A name to ! human,
fructuous rose. vital,
There's nothing high which has not first Whose calyx holds the multitude of
been low, leaves.
My humbleness, said One, has made me Loves filial, loves fraternal, neighbour-
great !) loves,
As'God did last.' And civic, . . all fair petals, all good
'
And work all silently, scents.
And simply,' he returned, '
as God does All reddened, sweetened from one central
all ;
Heart !

Distort our nature never for our work,

Nor count our right hands stronger for
'
Alas,' I cried, '
itwas not long ago,
being hoofs.
You swore this very social rose smelt
The man most man, with tenderest hu-
man hands. ' Alas,' he answered, is it a rose at all ? '

Works best for men, — as God in Naza- The filial's thankless, the fraternal's
reth.' hard.
He paused upon the word, and then re-
The rest is lost. I do but stand and
think.
sumed :

* Fewer programmes, we who have no Across the waters of a troubled life

prescience.
The Flower of Heaven so vainly over-
Fewer systems, we who are held and do
hangs.
not hold. What perfect counterpart would be in
sight.
Less mapping out of masses to be saved,
If tanks were clearer. Let us clean the
By nations or by sexes. Fourier's void.
tubes.
And Comte absurd,— and Cabet, puerile.
Subsists no law of life outside of life,
And wait for rains. poet, O my love, O
No perfect manners, without Christian Since 1 was too ambitious in my deed.
souls.
And thought to distance all men in suc-
cess,
The Christ himself had been no Law-
giver,
Till God came on me, marked the place,
Unless he had given the life, too, with and said,
the law.'
'
Ill-doer, henceforth keep within this

I echoed thoughtfully — 'The man, most

line,
Attempting less than- others,'— and I
man, stand
 —
i8o AURORA LEIGH.
And work among Christ's little ones, To get them to some purer eminence
content,— Than any hitherto beheld for clouds !

Come thou, my compensation, my dear What height we know not, — but the way
sight, .
. , .
we know.
My mornmg-star, my mornmg ! rise and
,
And how by mounting ever, we attain,
shine. And so climb on. It is the hour for
And touch my hills with radiance not souls ;

their own. That bodies, leavened by the will and

Shine out for two, Aurora, and fulfil love.
My falling-short thatmust be work ! for Be lightened to redemption. The world's
two. old ;

As I, though thus restrained, for two, But the old world waits the time to be
shall love ! renewed:
Gaze on, with inscient vision toward the Toward which, new hearts in individual
sun, growth
And, from his visceral heat, pluck out Must quicken, and increase to multitude
the roots In dynasties of the race of men,—
new
Of light beyond him. Art's a service, Developed whence, shall grow spon-
mark : taneously
A silver key is given to thy clasp. New churches, new ceconomies, new
And thou shalt stand unwearied, night laws
and day, Admitting freedom, new societies
And fix it in the hard, slow-turning wards, Excluding falsehood.' He shall make
And open, so, that intermediate door all new.'
Betwixt the different planes of sensuous
form My Romney ! — Lifting up my hand in

And form insensuous, that inferior men his,

May learn to feel on still through these As vi'heeled by Seeing spirits toward the
east,
to those.
And bless thy ministration. The world He turned instinctively, —where, faint

waits and far.

For lielp. Beloved, let iis love so well, Along the tingling desert of th sky. .

Our work shall still be better for our Beyond the circle of the conscious hills,
love. Were laid in jasper-stone as clear as
And still our love be sweeter for our glass
work. The first foundations of that new, near
And both commended, for the sake of Day
each. Which should be builded out of heaven
By all true workers and true lovers born. to God.
Now press thy clarion on thy woman's He stood a moment
with erected brows,
In silence, as a creature might, who
(Love's holy kiss shall still keep conse- gazed:
crate) Stood calm, and fed his blind, majestic
And breathe the fine keen breath along eyes
the brass, Upon the thought of perfect noon. And
when
And blow all class-walls level as Jeri-
I saw his soul saw,
— ' Jasper first,' I
cho's
crying from the top of said,
Past Jordan ;

souls,
'
And second, sapphire ; third, chalce-
To souls, that here assembled on earth's dony ;

flats,
The rest in order, . . last, an amethyst.'
 — ! !

PROMETHEUS BOUND.
FERSONS OF THE DRAMA. Scorched in the sun's clear heat, shall
fade away.
Promktheus. Heph^.stus.
Night shall come up with garniture of
OcKANiis. lo, dauglitei-of Inachus.
Hermes. bTKENora and Pokck. stars
Chokiis of Ocean Nymphs. To comfort thee wit'n shadow, and the
Scene.—Stke.voth and Force, Heph^kstus sun
u}id Prometheus at the Hocks. Disperse with retrickt beams the morn-
ing frosts ;

Strength. And through all changes, sense of pres-

We reach the utmost limit of the earth. ent woe
The Scythian track, the desert without Shall vex thee sore, because with none
man. of them
And now, Hephaestus, thou must needs There comes a hand to free. Such fruit
fulfil is plucked
The mandate of our father, and with From love of man ! — for
a in that thou,
links god.
Indissoluble of adamantine chains. Didst brave the wrath of gods and give
Fasten against this beetling precipice away
This guilty god Because he filched
! Undue respect to mortals ; for that
away crime
Thine own bright (lower, the glory cf Thou art adjudged to guard this joyless
plastic fire. rock,
And gifted mortals with it, such a sia — Erect, imslumbering, bending not the
Itdoth behove he expiate to the gods. knee,
Learning to accept the empery of Zeus, And many a cry and unavailing moan
And leave off his old trick of loving man. 'lb utter on the air For Zeus is stern.
!

HcphcEstus. O Strength and Force, And new-made kings are cruel.

for you, or Zeus's will Strength. Be it so.
Presents a deed for doing. No more — ! Why loiter in vain pity Why not hate ?

—but /, A god the gods hate ? — one too wh.o be-

I lack your daring, up this storm-rent trayed
chasm Thy glory unto men ?
To fixwith violent hands a kindred god, Hephcestus. An awful thing
Hovvbeit necessity compels me so Is kinship joined to friendship.
—
That I must dare it, and our Zeus com- Strength. Grant it be ;

mands Is disobedience to the Father's word

With a most Ho, thou
inevitable word. ! A possible thing ? Dost quail not more
High-thoughted son of Themis who is for that ?
sage. Hephcestus. Thou, at least, art a
Thee loth, I loth must rivet fast in stern one ! ever bold !

chains Strength. Why, if I wept, it were

Against this rocky height unclomb by no remedy.
man. And do not thou spend labor oa the air
Where never human voice nor face shall To bootless uses.
find Hephcestus. Cursed handicraft
Out thee who lov'st them ! —and thy I curse and hate thee, O my craft
beauty's flower. Strength. Why hate
 — ! —
: — ——
|82 PROMETHEUS BOUND.
Thy craft most plainly innocent of all But lash the thongs about his sides.
These pending ills? Hephcestus. So much,
Hephcpstus. I wouldsome other hand I must do. Urge no farther than I must.
Were here to work it Strength. Ay, but I ivill urge !

St}-ength. All work hath its pain, and, with .shout on shout.
Except to rule the gods. There is none Will hound thee at this quarry Get !

free thee down

Except King Zens. And ring amain the iron round his legs !

Hephcestus. I know it very well Hephcestus. That work was not long
I argue not against it. doing.
Strength. Why not, then, Strength. Heavily now
Hake haste and lock the fetters over Let fall the strokes upon the perforant
HIM, gyves!
Lest Zeus behold thee lagging ? For He who rates the work has a heavy
Hephcestus. Here be chains. hand.
Zeus may behold these. Hephcestus. Thy speech is .savage as
Strength. Seize him, strike amain — ! thy shape.
Strike with the hammer on each side his Strength. Be thou
han ds Gentle and tender but revile not me
!

Rivet him to the rock. For the firm will and the untruckling
Hephcestus. The work is done, hate.
And thoroughly done. Hephcestus. Let us go He is netted
!

Strength. Still faster grapple him, round with chains.

Wedge him in deeper, leave no inch — Strength. Here, now, taunt on and I

to stir ! having spoiled the gods

He's terrible for finding a waj out Of honors, crown withal thy mortal men
From the irremediable. Who live a whole day out Why how !

HephiFStus. Here's an arm, at least,. could they

Grappled past freeing. Draw off from thee one single of thy
Strength. Now, then, buckle me griefs ?
The other securely. Let this wise one Methinks the Demons gave thee a wrong
learn name,
He's duller than our Zeus. Proinethetis, which means Providence
Hephcestus. Oh, none but he because
Accuse me justly! Thou dost thyself need providence to
Strength. Now, straight through the see
chest, Thy roll and ruin from the top of doom.
Take him and bite him with the clench- Prometheus alone. O holy /Ether,
ing tooth and swift winged Winds,
Of the adamantine wedge, and rivet And River-wells, and laughter innumer-
him. ous
Hephcestus. Alas. Prometheus what ! Of yon Sea- waves Earth, mother of
!

thou sufferest here us all.

I sorrow over. And all-viewing cyclic Sun, I cry on
Strength. Dost thou flinch again, you !

And breathe groans for the enemies of Behold me a god, what I endure frqm
Zeus ? gods!
Beware lest thine own pity find thee Behold with throe on throe.
out. How, wasted by this woe,
Hephcestus. Thou dost behold a spec- I wrestle down the myriad years of
tacle that turns Time !

The sight o' the eyes to pity. Behold, how fast around me,
Strength. I behold The new King of the happy ones sub-
A sinner suffer his sin's penalty. lime
 — — — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND. 183

Has flung the chain he forged, has And all life that approaches I wait for
shamed and bound me ! in fear.
Woe, woe to day's woe and the com-
!

ing morrow's, Chorus of Sea Nymphs, zsi Strophe.

Icover with one groan And where is !

found me
Fear nothing our troop !

Floats lovingly up
A
limit to these sorrows ?
With a quick-oaring stroke
And yet what word do I say ? I have
foreknown Of wings steered to the rock ;

Clearly all things that should be —noth- Having softened the

below
soul of our father

ing done
!

Comes sudden to my soul —and I must For the gales of swift-bearing have sent
bear
me a sound.
What is ordained with patience, being
And the clank of the iron, the malleted
blow.
aware
Necessity doth front the universe
Smote down the profound
With an invincible gesture. Yet this
Of my caverns of old.
curse
And struck the red light in a blush from
Which strikes me now, I find it hard to
my brow,
brave Till I sprang up unsandalled, in haste to

gave behold.
In silence or in speech. Because I
Honor to mortals, I have yoked soal my And rushed forth on my chariot of
To this compelling fate ! Because I wings manifold.
stole
PrometJiejis. Alas me alas me \ ! —
Ye off'spring of Tethys who bore at her
The secret fount of fire, whose bubbles
breast
went
Over the ferule's brim, and manward Many children ; and eke of Oceanus,
he.
sent
Art's mighty means and perfect rudi- Coiling still around earth with perpetual
unrest
ment, ;

That expiate in this agony

sin I
Behold me and see
Hung here in fetters, 'neath the blanch-
;
How transfixed with the fang
ing sky !
Of a fetter I hang
Ah, ah me what a sound. !
On the high jutting rocks of this fissure,
What a fragrance sweeps up from a and keep
pinion unseen An uncoveted watch o'er the world and
Of a god, or a mortal, or nature between. the deep.
Sweeping up to this rock where the earth
Chortis, 1st AntistropJie.
has her bound.
To have sight of my pangs, or some — I behold thee, Prometheus—yet now,
guerdon obtain yet now,
Lo a god in the anguish, a god in the
! A terrible
cloud whose rain is tears
chain ! Sweeps over mine eyes that witness how
The god, Zeus hateth sore Thy body appears
And his gods hate again. Hung awaste on the rocks by infrangi-
As many as tread on his glorified floor, ble chains !

Because I loved mortals too much ever- For new is the hand and the rudder that
more ! steers
Alas me ! what a murmur and motion I The ship of Olympus through surge and
hear. wind
As of birds flying near ! And of old things passed, no track is
And the air undersings behind.
The light stroke of their wings- Protfietheus. Under earth, under Hade?,
 — — — —
i84 PR OME THE US B O UND.

Where the home of the shade is. Chorus, zd Antistrophe.

All into the deep, deep Tartarus,
I would he had hurled me adown
I would he had plunged me, fastened
thus
In the knotted chain with the savage
clang.
All into the dark, where there should be
none,
Neither god nor another, to laugh and
see ! And I fear, in the roll
But now the winds sing through and
shake
The hurtling chains wherein I hang
And I, in my naked sorrows, make
Much mirth for my enemy.
! Thou a brave god.
art, sooth,
And,for all thou hast borne
From the the stroke of the rod.
Nought relaxest from scorn !
But .thou speakest imto me
Too free and unworn
And a terror strikes through me
And festers my soul
Of the storm, for thy fate
In the ship far from .shore
Since the son of Satuinius is hard in his
hate
And unmoved in his heart evermore.

Chorus, nd Strophe. Prometheus. I know that Zeus is

stern !

Nay who! of the gods hath a heart so I know he metes his justice by his will !

stern And yet his soul shall learn

As to use thy woe for a mock and More softne.ss when once broken by this
mirth ? ill —
Who would not turn more mild to learn And curbing his unconquerable vaunt
Thy sorrows ? who of the heaven and He shall rush on in fear to meet with
earth, me
Save Zeus ? But he Who rush meet with him in agony,
to
Right wrathfully To harmonious covenant.
issues of
Bears on his sceptral soul unbent, Chorus. Remove
the veil from all
And rules thereby the heavenly seed ;
things, and relate
Nor will he pause till he content
His thirsty heart in a finished deed
The story to us —
of what crime accu-sed,
!

;
Zeus smites thee with dishonorable
Or till Another shall appear. pangs. '

To win by fraud, to seize by fear Speak ! if to teach us do not grieve thy-

The hard-to-be-captured government. self.
Prometheus. The utterance of these
Prometheus. Yet even of w<? he shall things torture to me.
is
have need. But so, too, is their silence ! each way
That monarch of the blessed seed ;
lies
Of me, of me, who now am cursed Woe strong as fate !

By his fetters dire, When gods began with wrath.

To ring my secret out withal And war rose up between their starry
And learn by whom his sceptre shall brows.
. Be —
from him as was, at first.
filched Some choosing to cast Chronos from his
His heavenly fire ! throne
But he never shall enchant me That Zeus might king it there and ;

With his honey-lipped persuasion ;

some in haste
Never, never shall he daunt me With would
opposite oaths that they
With the oath and threat of passion. have no Zeus
Into speaking as they want me, To rule the gods forever, I, who —
Till he loose this savage chain, brought
And accept the expiation The counsel I thought meetest, co\iM not
Of my sorrow, in his pain.
 —— ! — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND.
ihe Titans, children of the Heaven and For which wrong I am bent down in
Earth. these pangs
What time disdaining in their rugged Dreadful to suffer, mournful to behold,
souls And I, who pitied man, am thought
My subtle machinations, they assumed myself
Itwas an easy thing for force to take —
Unworthy of pity, while I render out
The mastery of fate. My
mother, then. Deep rhythms of anguish 'neath the
Who is called not only Themis but Earth harping hand
too, That strikes me thus —
a sight to shame
!

(Her single beauty joys in many names,) your Zeus 1

Did teach me with reiterant prophecy Chorus. Hard as thy chains, and
What future should be, and how con- — cold as all these rocks.
quering gods Is he, Prometheus, who witliholds his
Should not prevail by strength and vio- heart
lence. From joining in thy woe. I yearned
But by guile only. When I told them before
so —
To fly this sight and, now I gaze on it,
They would not deign to contemplate I sicken inwards.
the truth PrometJieiis. To my friends, indeed,
On all sides round ; whereat I deemed I must be a sad sight.
it best Chorus. And didst thou sin
To lead my willing mother upwardly, No more than so ?
And set my
Themis face to face with Projtietheus. I did restrain besides
Zeus My mortals from premeditating deatli.
As willing to receive her ! Tartarus, Chorus. How didst thou medicine
With abysmal cloister of the Dark,
its the plague-fear of death ?
Because I gave that counsel, covers up Prometheus. I set blind Hopes to
The antique Chronos and his siding inhabit in their house.
hosU ; Chorus. By that gift, thou didst help
And, by that counsel helped, the king of thy mortals well.
gods Projneiheus. gave them also, fire.
I —
Hath recompensed me with these bitter Chorus. And have they now.
pangs Those creatures of a day, the red-eyed
For kingship wears a cancer at the fire?
heart, Prometheus. They have and shr.'.I !

Distrust in friendship. Do j'e also ask. learn by it many arts.

What crime it is for which he tortures Chorus. And, truly, for such sins
me Zeus tortures thee.
That shall be clear before you. When And will remit no anguish ? Is there
at first set
He throne, he instantly
filled his father's No limit before thee to thine agony ?
Madi various gifts of glory to the gods, Prometheus. No other! only what
And dealt the Empire out. Alone of seems good to him.
men. Chorus. And how will it seem good ?
Of miserable men he took no count. what hope remains ?
But yearned to sweep their track off Seest thou not that thou hast sinned ?
from the world. But that thou hast sinned
And plant a newer race there Not a !
It glads me not to speak of, and grieves
god thee —
Resisted such desire except myself! Then let it pass from both and seek !

/ dared it / drew mortals back to

!
thyself
light. Some outletfrom distress.
From meditated ruin deep as hell, Prometheus. It is in truth
 — — ! — — — — !•

PROMETHEUS BOUND.

An easy tiling to stand aloof from pain That no fair parlance of the mouth
And lavish exhortation and advice Grows falsely out of mine !

Oil one vexed sorely by it. I have Now give me a deed to prove my
known faith,
All in prevision By my choice, my
! For no faster friend is named in breath
choice, Than I, Oceanus, am thine.
I freely sinned —
I will confess my sin
Prometheus. Ha what has brought
And helping mortals, found mine own
!

thee ? Hast thou also come

despair
To look upon my woe ? How hast thou
!

I did not think indeed that I should pine

dared
Beneath such pangs against such skiey
rocks.
To leave the depths called after thee,
the caves
Doomed to this drear hill and no neigh-
Self-hewn and self-roofed with sponta-
boring
Of any life ! —
but mourn not jj/^ for griefs
To
neous rock.
visit Earth, the mother of my chain ?
I bear to-day ! —
hear rather, dropping
Hast come indeed to view my doom
down
To how other woes creep on
and mourn
the plain,
That I should sorrow thus ? Gaze on,
to me,
and see
And learn the consummation of my How I, the fast friend of your Zeus, —
doom.
Beseech you, nymphs, beseech yo\i !
how I

grieve for me
The erector of the empire in his hand,
V/honow am grieving ! —for grief walks Am bent beneath that hand in this
despair !

the earth.
Oceanus. Prometheus, I behold,
And sits down at the foot of each by
and I would fain
turns.
Exhort thee, though already subtle
Chorus. We
hear the deep clash of
enough,
thy words,
Prometheus, and obey
To a better wisdom. Titan, know thy-
self.
And I spring with a rapid foot away And take new softness to thy manners,
From the rushing car and the holy air. since
The
track of birds
And I drop to the rugged ground and A new king rules the gods. If words
like these.
there
Await the tale of thy despair Harsh words and trenchant, thou wilt
fling abroad,
Enter Oce.a.nus. Zeus haply, though he sit so far and
high.
Oceanus. I reach the bourne of my May hear thee do it ; and, so, this wrath
weary road, of his
Where I may see and answer thee, Which now affects thee fiercely, shall
Prometheus, in thine agony ! appear
On the back of the quick-wmged bird A mere child's sport at vengeance
Iglode, Wretched god.
And I bridled him in Rather dismiss the passion which thou
With the will of a god. hast.
Behold thy sorrow aches in me. And seek a change from grief. Perhaps
Constrained by the force of kin. I seem
Nay, though that tie were all undone. To address thee with old saws and out-
For the life of none beneath the sun, worn sense,
Would I seek a larger benison Yet such a curse, Prometheus, surely
Th.in I seek for thine ! waits
And thou slia'.t le.^rn my words are On lips thatspeak too proudly ! —thou,
truth, meantime.
 — 1 —— — !

PROMETHEUS BOUND. 187

Art none the meeker, nor dost yield For still my brother's doom doth ve.x my
a jot soul,
To evil circumstance, preparing still My brother Adas, standing in the west.
To swell the account of grief, with other Shouldering the column of the heaven
griefs and earth,
Than what are borne ! Beseech thee, A difficult burden ! I have ako seen.
use me then And I saw, the earth-born one.
pitied as
For counsel ! Do not spurn against the The inhabitant of old Cilician caves.
pricks, The great war-monster of the hundred
Seeing that who reigns, reigns by cruelty heads,
Instead of right. And now, I go from (All taken and bowed beneath the
hence. violent Hand,)
And will endeavor if a power of mine TyphoB the fierce, who did resist the
Can break thy fetters through. For gods.
thee, —be calm. And, hissing slaughter from his dreadful
And smooth thy words from passion. jaws.
Know est thou not Flash out ferocious glory from his eyes.
Of perfect knowledge, thou who know- As if to storm the throne of Zeus
est too much. Whereat,
That where the tongue wags, ruin never The sleepless arrow of Zeus flew straight
lags ? at him,
Prometheus. T gratulate thee who The headlong bolt of thunder breathing
hast shared and dared flame.
All things with me, except their And struck him downward from his
penalty ! eminence
Enough so ! leave these thoughts ! 1 Of exultation ! Through the very soul.
cannot be It struck him, and his strength was
That thou shouldst move Him. He withered up
may be moved
7iot ! To ashes, thunder-blasted. Now, he lies
And thou, beware of sorrow on this A helpless trunk supinely, at full length
road. Beside the strait of ocean, spurred into
Oceanus. Ay ! ever wiser for an- By roots of Etna, high upon whose —
other's use tops
Than thine! the event, and not the Hephaestus sits and strikes the flashing
prophecy. ore.
Attests it to me. Yet where now I rusli. From thence the rivers of fire shall burst
Thy wisdom hath no power tO drag me away
back ; Hereafter, and devour with savage jaws
—
Because I glory glory, to go hence
And win for thee deliverance from thy
The equal plains of fruitful Sicily
Such passion he shall boil back in hot
!

pangs. darts
As a free gift from Zeus. Of an insatiate fury and sough of flame.
Prometheus. there, again, Why Fallen Typhon ; — howsoever struck and
I give thee gratulation and applause ! charred
Thou lackest no good-will. But, as for By Zeus's bolted thunder But for thee. !

deeds. Thou art not so unlearned as to need

Do nought ! 'twere all done vainly ! My teaching — let thy knowledge save
helping nought. thyself.
Whatever thou wouldst do. liather / quaff the full cup of a present doom.
take rest, And wait till Zeus hath quenched his
And keep thyself from evil. If I will in wrath.
grieve, Oceamts. Prometheus, art thou ignor-
I do not therefore wish to multiply ant of this,
The griefs of others. Verily, not so ! That words do medicine anrjer?
 — ! — — — ——— —
1 83 PROMETHEUS BOUND.
Prometheus. If the word All the mortal nations.
With seasonable softness touch the soul, Having habitations
And, where the parts are ulcerous, sear Near the holy Asia,
them not Are a dirge entoning
By any rudeness. For thine honor and thy brother's.
Oceamis. What a noble aim Once majestic beyond others
To dare as nobly— is there harm in that ? In the old belief,—
Dost thou discern it ? Teach me. Now are groaning in the groaning
Prometheus. I discern Of thy deep- voiced grief.
Vain aspiration, unresultive work. —
Oceafizis. Then suffer me to bear the 2.d Strophe.
brunt of this
Since it is profitable that one who is wise Mourn the maids inhabitant
Should seem not wise at all. Of the Colchian land.
Prometheus. And such would seem Who with white, calm bosoms, stand
INIy very crime.
In the battle's roar
Oceantis. In truth thine argument
Mourn the Scythian tribes that haunt
Sends me back home. The verge of earth. Maeotis' shore
_^
P7-ometheus. Lest any lament for me
"should cast thee down to hate. id Antistrophe,
Oceanus. The hate of Him, Yea ! Arabia's battle crown.
Who sits a new king on the absolute And dwellers in the beetling town
throne ? Mount Caucasus sublimely nears,
Projnetheus. Beware of him,—lest An iron squadron, thundering down
thine heart grieve by him. With the sharp-prowed spears.
Ocea7tus. Thy doom, Prometheu-,
be my teacher ! But one other before, have I seen to
Prometheus. Go 1
remain.
Depart beware — !
—and keep the mind By invincible pain
thou hast. Bound and vanquished, one Titan — !

Oeeantis. Thy words drive after, as 'twas Atlas who bears.

I rush before ! In a curse from the gods, by that strength
Lo! my four-footed Bird sweeps smooth of his own
and wide Which he evermore wears.
The flats of air with balanced pinions, The weight of the heaven on his shoul-
glad der alone.
To bend his knee at home in the ocean- While he .sighs up the stars !

stall. [Exit Oceanus. And the tides of the ocean wail bursting
Chorics, rst Strophe. their bars,
I moan thy fate, I moan for thee, Murmurs still the profound,
Prometheus From
! my
eyes too ten- And black Hades roars up through the
der. chasm of the ground,
Drop after drop incessantly. And the fountains of pure-running riv-
The tears of my
heart's pity render. ers moan low
My cheeks wet from their fountains In a pathos of woe.
free,
Because that Zeus, the stern and cold, Prometheus. Beseech, you, think not
Whose law is taken from his breast, 1 am silent thus
Uplifts his sceptre manifest Through pride or scorn ! I only gnaw
Over the gods of old. my heart
With meditation, seeing myself so
ist Antistrophe. wronged.
All the land is moaning —
For so their honors to these new-made
With a murmured plaint to-day ! gods.
 ! —

PR OME THE US B O UND. ,89

What other gave but I, —and dealt them With linen wings ! And I —oh, misera-
out ble !-
With distribution ? Ay — but here I am Who did devise for mortals all these arts.
dumb ; Have no device left now to save myself
For here, 1 should repeat your know- From the woe I suffer.
ledge to you. Chorus. Most unseemly woe
If I spake aught. List rather to the Thou sufferest and dost stagger from
deeds the sense.
I did for mortals, —
how, being fooLs be- Bewildered 1 Like a bad leech falling
fore, sick
I made them wise and true in aim of Thou art faint at soul, and canst not find
soul. the drugs
And let me tell you —not as taunting Required to save thyself.
men, Prometheus. Harken the rest,'
But teaching you the intention of my And marvel further what more arts —
gifts ; and means
How, first beholding, they beheld in I did invent, —
this, greatest if a man !
—
vain. Fell sick, there was no cure, nor escu-
And hearing, heard not, but like shapes lent
in dreams, Nor chrism nor liquid, but for lack of
Mixed all things wildly down the tedious drugs
time, Men pined and wasted, till I showed
Nor knew to build a house against the them all
sun Those mixtures of emollient remedies
With wicketed sides, nor any woodcraft Whereby they might be rescued from
knew. disease.
But lived, like silly ants, beneath the I fixedthe various rules of mantic art.
ground Discerned the vision from the common
In hollow cave.s unsunned. There, came dream.
to them Instructed them in vocal auguries
No stedfast
sign of winter, nor of spring Hard to interpret, and defined as plain
Flower-perfumed, nor of summer full of The wayside omens, —flights of crook-
fruit. clawed birds,
But blindly and lawlessly they did all Showed which are, by their nature, for-
things. tunate.
Until I taught them how the stars do And which not so, and what the food of
rise each.
And set in mystery and devised for ; And what the hates, affections, social
them needs,
Number, the inducer of philosophies. Of all to one another, — taught what sign
The synthesis of Letters, and, beside. Of visceral lightness, coloured to ashade.
The artificer of all things. Memory, May charm the genial gods, and what
That sweet Muse-mother. I was first fair spots
to yoke Commend the lung and liver. Burn-
The servile beasts in couples, carrying ing so
An heirdom of man's burdens on their The limbs encased in fat, and the long
backs chine,
I joined the chariots, steeds, that love I led my mortals on to an art abstruse.
the bit And cleared their eyes to the image in
—
They champ at the chief pomp of gold- the fire.
en ease. Erst filmed in dark. Enough said now
And none but I, originated ships. of this.
The seaman's chariots, wandering on the For the other helps of man hid under-
brine ground,
 — !

190 PROMETHEUS BOUND.

The iron and tlie brass, silver and gold, Where the altar is full
Can any dare affirm he found them out Of the blood of the bull.
Before me ? None, I know Unless I Near the tossing brine
he choose Of Ocean my father.
To vaunt.
lie in his In one word learn May no sin be sped in the word that is
the whole, said.
That all arts came to mortals from Pro- But my vow to be rather
metheus. Consummated,
Chorus. Give mortals now no inex- Nor evermore fail, nor evermore pine.
pedient help.
Neglecting thine own sorrow I have !
\st Antistrophc.
hope still
To see thee, breaking from the fetter 'Tis sweet to have
here. Life lengthened out
Stand up as strong as Zeus. With hopes proved brave
Promctheiis. This ends not thu=:, By the very doubt.
The oracular Fate ordains. I must be Till the spirit enfold
bowed Those manifest joys which were fore-
By infinite woes and pangs, to escape told !

this chain. But I thrill to behold

Necessity is stronger than mine art. Thee, victim doomed.
Chorus. Who holds the helm of that By the countless cares
Necessity ? And the drear despairs.
Prometheus. The threefold Fates Forever consumed.
and the unfqrgetting Furies.
Chorus. Is Zeus less absolute than And all because thou, who art fearless
these are ? now
Prometheus. Yea, Of Zeus above.
And therefore cannot fly what is or- Didst overflow for mankind below.
dained. With a free-souled, reverent love.
Chorus. What is ordained for Zens,
except to be a king forever ? Ah friend, behold and see !

Prometheus. 'Tis too early yet What's all the beauty of humanity ?

For thee to learn it ask no more.

:
Can it be fair ?
Chorus. Perhaps What's all the strength ?— is it strong ?

Thy secret may be something holy ? And what hope can they bear.
Prometheus. Turn These dying livers hving one day —
To another matter this, it is not time
1
long ?

To speak abroad, but utterly to veil Ah seest thou not, my friend.

In silence. For by that same secret How feeble and slow,
kept, And like a dream, doth go
I 'scape this chain's dishonor and its This poor blind manhood, drifted from
its end ?
woe.
And how no mortal wranglings can
confuse
Chorus, rst Strophe. The harmony of Zeus ?
Never, oh never.
May Zeus, the all-giver. Prometheus, have learnt these things
I
Wrestle down from his throne From the sorrow in thy face !

In that might of his own. Another song did fold its wings
To antagonize mine Upon my lips in other days.
Nor let me delay When round the bath and round the
As I bend on my way bed
Toward the gods of the shrine. The hymeneal chant instead
 — ! — —— ! —— • —
PROMETHEUS BOUND, i9t

sang for thee, and smiled,

I In my prayer
And thou didst lead, with gifts and For this wandering everlonger, ever-
vows, more.
Hesione, my father's child. Hath overworn me,
To be thy wedded spouse. And I know not on what shore
I may rest from my despair.
lo enters. Chorus. Hearest thou what the ox-
To. What land is this? what people horned maiden saith ?
is here ? Froinetheus. How could I choose
And who is he that writhes, I see. but hearken what she saith.
In the rock-hung chain ? The frenzied maiden ? — Inachus's
Now what is the crime that hath brought child ?—
thee to pain ? Who love-warms Zeus's heart, and now
And what is the land make answer — is lashed
free By Here's hate, along the unending
Which I wander through, in my wrong ways ?
and fear ? lo. Who taught thee to articulate
Ah ah ah me
! ! ! that name,
The gad-fly stingeth to agony ! My father's ? Speak to his child.
Earth, keep off that phantasm pale By grief and shame defiled !

Of earth-born Argus ah I quail ! — ! — Who art thou, victim, thou—who dost

When my soul descries acclaim
The herdsman with the myriad eyes Mine anguish in true words, on the wide
Which seem, as he comes, one crafty air?
eye I And callest too by name, the curse that
Graves hide him not, though he should came
die. From Here unaware.
But he doggeth me in my misery To waste and pierce me with the mad-
From the roots of death, on high —on ening goad.
high— Ah —ah — I
leap
And along the sands of the siding deep. With the pang of the hungry — I bound
All famine-worn, he follows me. on the road
And his waxen reed doth undersound I am driven by my doom —
The waters round. I am overcome
And giveth a measure that giveth sleep. By the wrath of an enemy strong and
deep !

Woe, woe, woe AVe any of those who have tasted pain,
Where shall my weary course be Alas ! —as wretched as I ?

done ?— Now tell me plain, doth aught remain

What wouldst thou with me, Saturn's For my soul to endure beneath the sky ?
son? Is there any help to be holpen by ?
And in what have I sinned, that I should If knowledge be in thee, let it be said
go Cry aloud cry —
1 hus yoked to grief by thine hand for To the wandering, woeful maid.
ever? Prometheus. Whatever thou wouldst
Ah ah ! dost vex me so.
! learn I will declare,
That I madden and shiver, No riddle upon my lips, but such straight
Stung through with dread ? words.
Flash the fire down, to burn me ! As friends should use to each other when
Heave the earth up, to cover me ! they talk.
Or plunge me in the deep, with the salt Thou seest Prometheus, who gave mor-
waves over me. tals fire.
Where the sea-beasts may be fed I lo. O common Help of all men,
O king, do not spurn me known of all.
 ——! ! — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND.
O miserable Prometheus, — for what Thy father's sisters since to open out
;

caiLse And mourn out grief where it is possible

Dost thou endure thus ? To draw a tear from the audience, is a
Prometheus. I have done with wail work
For my own griefs but lately — That pays its own price well.
lo. Wi'it thou not lo. I cannot choose
Vouchsafe the boon to me ? H.it trust you, nymphs, and tell you all
Prometheus . Say which thou wilt, yeask.
For I vouchsafe all. In clear words —though I sob amid my
lo. Speak then, and reveal speech
Who shut thee in this chasm. In speaking of the storm-curse sent from
Prometheus. The will of Zeus, Zeus,
The hand of his Hephaestus. And of my beauty, from which height
lo. And what crime it took
Dost expiate so ? Its swoop on me, poor wretch left thus I

Prometheus. I have told enough for deformed,

thee. And monstrous to your eyes. For ever-
In so much only more
lo. Nay—^but .show besides Around my virgin chamber, wandering
The limit of my wandering, and the went
time The nightly visions which entreated me
Which yet is lacking to fulfil my grief. With syllabled smooth sweetness.
Prometheus. Why, not to know ' Blessed maid,
Were better than to know. Why lengthen out thy maiden hours
For such as thou. when fate
lo. Beseech thee, blind me not Permits the noblest spousal in the world ?
To that which I must suffer. When Zeus burns with the arrow of thy
Prometheus. If I do love.
The reason is not that I grudge the boon. And fainwould touch thy beauty.
lo. What
reason, then, prevents thy Maiden, thou
speaking out ? Despise not Zeus depart to Lerne's
!

Prometheus. No grudging but a ! mead

fear to break thine heart. That's green around thy father's flocks
lo. Less care for me, I pray thee ! and stalls,
Certainty, I count for advantage. Until the passion of the heavenly eye
Profnetheus. Thou wilt have it Be quenched in sight.' Such dreams
so. did all night long
And, therefore, I must speak. Now Constrain me —
me, unhappy ! — till I
hear dared
To tell my father how they trod the dark
Chorus. Not yet With visionary steps ; whereat he sent
Give half the guerdon my way. Let us His frequent heralds -to the Pythian
learn fane,
First, what the curse is that befel the And also to Dodona, and inquired
maid, How best, by act or speech, to please
Iler own voice telling her own wasting the gods.
woes The same returning, brought back ora-
The sequence of that anguish .shall await cles
The teaching of thy lips. Of doubtful sense, indefinite response.
Prometheics. doth behove
It Dark to interpret but at last there
;

That thou, maid To, shouldst vouchsafe came

to these To Inachus an answer that was clear,
The grace they pray ; thcMnorc, because Thrown straight as any bolt, and spoken
they are called out.
 — — — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND.
This — ' he should drive mc from my So hard to behold.
home and land. So cruel to bear.
And bid me wander to the extreme Piercing my soul with a double-«dged
verge sword
—
Of all the earth or, if he willed it not. Of a sliding cold !

Should have a thunder with a fiery eye Ahfate ah me !—

! —
Leap straight from Zeus to bum up all shudder to see
I
his race This wandering maid in her agony.
To the last root of it.' By which Lox-
ian word Prometheus. Grief is too qulclc i.-\

Subdued, he drove me forth, and shut thee, and fear too full !

me out. Be patient till thou hast learnt tlic rest I

He loth, me loth, —but Zeus's violent bit Chorus. Speak — teach \

Compelled him to the deed — when !

To those who are sad already, it seems
instantly sweet.
My body and soul were changed and By clear foreknowledge to make perfect,
distraught. pain.
And, horned as ye see, and spurred Protnetheus. The boon ye a^ked me
along first was lightly won,
By the fanged insect, with a maniac For first ye asked the story of this
leap maid's grief
I rushed on to Cerchnea's limpid stream As her own lips might tell it — now
And Lerne's fountain-water. There, remains
the earth born. To list what other sorrows she so young
The herdsman Argus, most immitigable Must bear from Here Inachus's child,
!
—
Of wrath, did find me out, and track —
O thou! Drop down thy soul my
me out weighty words.
With countless eyes, yet staring at my And measure out the landmarks which
steps ! are set
And though an unexpected sudden To end thy wandering. Toward the
doom orient sun
Drew him from life —I, curse-tormented First turn thy face from mine, and jour-
still. ney on
And driven from land to land before the Along the desert flats, till thou shalt
scourge come
The gods hold o'er me. So, thou hast Where Scythia's shepherd peoples dwell
heard the past. aloft.
And if a bitter future thou canst tell. Perched in wheeled wagons under
Speak on I charge thee, do not flatter
! woven roofs.
me And twang the rapid arrov/ past the
Through pity, with false words for, in ! bow
my mind. Approach them not ; but siding ia thy
Deceiving works more shame than tor- course.
turing doth. The rugged shore-rocks resonant to the
sea.
Cho7-us. Depart that country. On the left hand
dwell
Ah ! silence here ! The iron-workers, called the Chalybes,
Nevermore, nevermore. Of whom beware for certes they arc
!

Would I languish for uncouth.

The stranger's word And nowise bland to strangers. Reach-
To thrill mine ear ! ing so
Nevermore for the wrong and the woe i The stream Hybristcs, (well the scornsr
and the fear, called).
 — —
194 PROMETHEUS BOUND.

Attempt no passage ; — it is hard to pass. lo. What boots my life, then ? why
Or ere thou come to Caucasus itself. not cast myself
The highest of mountains, where the — Down headlong from this miserable
river leaps rock.
The precipice in his strength ! —thou That, dashed against the flats, I may
must toil up redeem
Those mountain-tops that neighbor with My soul from sorrow ? Better once to
the stars. die.
And tread the south way, and draw Than day by day to suffer.
near, at last. Prometheus. \"erily.
The Amazonian host that hateth man. It would be hard for thee to bear my
Inhabitants of Themiscyra, close woe.
Upon Thermodon, where the sea's rough For whom it is appointed not to d c.
jaw Death frees from woe but I before me
:

Doth gnash at Salmydessa and provide see

A cruel host to seamen, and to ships In all my far prevision, not a bound
A stepdame. They, with unreluctant To all I suffer, ere that Zeus shall fall
hand, From being a king.
Shall lead thee on and on, till thou lo. And can it ever be
arrive That Zeus shall fall from empire ?
where the ocean gates show narrow- Prometheus. Thou, methinks,
J ust
est Wouldst take some joy to see it.
On the Cimmerian isthmas. Leaving lo. Could I choose ;
which. /, who endure such pangs, now, by that
Behoves thee swim with fortitude of god?
soul Prometheus. Learn from me, there-
The strait Mseotis. Ay and evermore
! fore, that the event shall be.
That traverse shall be famous on men's lo. By whom shall his imperial scep-
lips. tred hand
That called Bosphorus, the horned
strait, Be emptied so ?
one's road. Prometheus, Himself shall spoil
So named because of thee, who so wilt himself.
pass Through his idiotic counsels.
From Europe's plain to Asia's continent. lo. How ? declare ;

How think ye, nymphs? the king of Unless the word bring evil.
gods appears Projttetheus. He shall wed
Impartial in ferocious deeds ? Behold And in the marriage-bond be joined to
The god desirous of this mortal's love grief.
Hath cursed her with these wanderings. lo.A heavenly bride or human ? —
Ah, fair child. Speak it out.
Thou hast met a bitter groom for bridal If be utterable.
it

troth ! Prometheus. Why should I say

For thou yet hast heard, can only
all which ?
prove It ought not to be uttered, verily.
The incompleted prelude of thy doom. lo. Then
lo. Ah, ah ! It his wife shall tear him f.om his
is

Prometheus. Is't thy turn, now, to throne ?

shriek and moan ? Prometheus It Is his wife shall bear
How wilt thou when thou hast heark- a son to him,
ened what remains ? More mighty than the father.
Chorus. Besides the grief thou hast 7(7. From this doom
told, can aught remain ? Hath he no refuge?
Prometheus. A sea —of foredoomed Prometheus. None — or ere that I,

evil worked to storm. Loosed from these fetters

 —— — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND.

To —
Yea but who shall loose Fly till thou hast reached the Gorgoncam
While Zeus is adverse ? flats
Prometheus. One who is bom of —
Beside Cisthene there the Phorcides,
thee, — Three ancient maidens, live, with shape
It is ordained so. of swan.
lo. What is this thou sayest One tooth between them, and one com-
A son of mine shall liberate thee from mon eye,
woe? On whom the sun doth never look at all
Prometheus. After ten generations, With all his rays, nor evermore the
count three more, moon.
And find him in the third. When she looks through the night.
lo. The oracle Anear to whom
Remains obscure. Are the Gorgon sisters three, enclothed
Prometheus. And search it not to with wings.
learn With twisted snakes for ringlets, man-
Thine own griefs from it. abhorred.
lo. Point me not to a good. There is no mortal gazes in their face.
To leave me straight bereaved, And gazing can breathe on. I speak of
such
Prometheus. I am prepared To guard thee from their horror. Ay I
To grant thee one of two things. and list
Jo. But which two ? Another tale of a dreadful sight I be-
Set them before me grant me power to — ware
imbarking dogs of
choose. The Griffins, those
Prometheus. I grant it —choose now I Zeus,
shall name aloud Those sharp-mouthed dogs! and the —
What griefs remain to wound thee, or Arimaspian host
what hand Of one-eyed horsemen, habiting beside
Shall save me out of mine. The river of Pluto that runs bright with
Chorus. Vouchsafe, god. O gold.
The one grace of the twain to her who Approach them not, beseech thee. Pre-
prays. sently
The next to me —and turn back neither Thou'lt come to a distant land, a dusky
prayer tribe
Dishonored by denial. To herself Of dwellers at the fountain of the Sun,
Recount the future wandering of her Whence flows the river iEthiops !

feet wind along

Then point me to the looser of thy Its banks and turn off at the cataracts.
chain Just as the Nile pours from the Bybline
Because I yearn to know it. hills.
Prometheus. Since ye will. His holy and sweet wave! his course
Of absolute will, this knowledge, I will shall guide
set Thine own to that triangular Nile-
No contrary against it, nor keep back ground
A word of all ye ask for. lo, first Where, lo, is ordained for thee and thine
To thee I must relate thy wandering A lengthened exile. Have I said, in
course this.
Ytcc winding as I tell it, write it down
; Aught darkly or incompletely ?— now
In thy soul's book of memories. When repeat
thou hast past The question, make the knowledge
The refluent bound that parts two con- fuller ! Lo,
tinents. I have more leisure than I covet, here.
Track on the footsteps of the orient sun Chorus. If thou canst tell us aught
In his own fire — acros.s the roar of seas. that's left untold
 —
19^ PROMETHEUS BOUiVD.
Or loosely told of her most dreary flight, And on the mound washed up by it!
Declare it straight! but if thou hast lo, there
uttered all, Shall Zeus give back to thee thy perfect
Grant us that latter grace for which we mind.
prayed, And only by the pressure and the toucli
Remembering how we prayed it. Of a hand not terrible and thou to
;

Prometheus. She has heard Zeus

The uttermost of her wandering. There Shalt bear a dusky son, v/ho shall be
it ends. called
But that she may be certain not to have Thence, Epaphus, Touched That sonI

heard shall pluck the fruit

All vainly, I will speak what she en- Of all that land wide- watered by the
dured flow
Ere coming hither, and invoke the past Of Nile ; but after him, when counting
To prove my prescience true. And so out
to leave As far as the fifth full generation, then
A multitude of words, and pass at once Full fifty maidens, a fair woman-race.
To the subject of thy course When !
— Shall back to Argos turn reluctantly.
thou hadst gone To fly the proffered nuptials of their
To those Molossian plains which sweep km.
around Their father's brothers. These being
Dodona shouldering Heaven, whereby passion-struck.
the fane Like falcons bearing hard on flying
Of Zeus Thesprotian keepeth oracle. doves.
And wonder, past belief, where oaks do Shall follow, hunting at a quarry of love
wave They should not hunt —
till envious
—
Articulate adjurations fay, the same Heaven maintain
Saluted thee in no perplexed phrase. A curse betwixt that beauty and their
But clear with glory, noble wife of Zeus desire.
That shouldst be, there, some sweetness And Greece receive them, to be over-
took thy sense !) come
Thou didst rush further onward, stung — In murtherous woman-war, by fierce red
along hands
The ocean-shore, —
toward Rhea's Kept savage by the night. For every
mighty bay. wife
And, tost back from it, was tost to it Shall slay a husband, dyeing deep in
again blood
In stormy evolution !
—
and, know well, The sword of a double edge (I wish!

In coming time that hollow of the sea indeed

Shall bear the name Ionian, and present As fair amarriage-joy to all my foes !)
A monument of lo's passage through. One bride alone shall fail to smite to
Unto all mortals. Be these words the death
signs The head upon her pillow touched with
Of my soul's power to look beyond the love.
veil Made impotent of purpose, and im-
Of visible things. The rest to you and pelled
her, To —
choose the lesser evil shame on her
I will declare in common audience, cheeks,
nymphs. The blood-guilt on ner hands. Which
Returning thither, where my speech bride shall bear
brake off. —
A royal race in Argos tedious speech
There a town Canobus, built upon Were needed to relate particulars
Of these things— 'tis enough that from
is
The earth's fair margin, at the mouth of
Nile. her seed,
 — — ! ——— ! — — ——

PROMETHEUS BOUND.

Shall spring the strong He—famous with By this fell curseof Here, driven —
the bow. On wanderings dread and drear I

Whose arm shall break my fetters off

Behold, Epode.
My mother Themis, that old Titaness, Nay, grant an equal troth instead
Delivered to me such an oracle ;
Of nuptial troth to bind me by !

Bat how and when, I should be long to

speak.
It will —
not hurt I shall not dread
To meet it in reply.
And thou, in hearing, wouldst not gain But let not love from those above
at all. Revert and fix me, as I said.
lo. Eleleu, eleleu !
With that inevitable Eye !

How the spasm and the pain I have no sword to fight that fight
And the fire on the brain I have no strength to tread that path—
Strike, burning me through I know not if my nature hath
How the sting of the curse, all
!

aflame The power to bear, — I cannot see.

as it flew. Whither, from Zeus's infinite,

Pricks me onward again !

I have the power to flee.
How my heart in its terror, is spurning Prometheus. Yet Zeus, albeit most
my breast. absolute of will
And my eyes, like the wheels of a cha- Shall turn to meekness, such a mar- —
riot, rollround,
riage-rite
I am whirled from my course, to the
He holds in preparation, which anon
east, to the west.
Shall thrust him headlong from his
In the whirlwind of frenzy all madly
gerent seat
in wound
Adown the abysmal void, and so the
And my mouth is unbridled for anguish
and hate,
And my words beat in vain, in wild
... curse
His father Chronos muttered in his fall.
As he fell from his ancient throne and
storms of unrest.
cursed.
On the sea of my desolate fate. Shall be accomplished wholly no es, —
Chorus. — Strophe. From
cape
that ruin shall the filial Zeus
all
Oh wise was he, oh, wise was he.
!
Find granted to him from any of his
Who first within his spirit knew gods,
And with his tongue declared it true, Unless I teach him. I, the refuge, know.
That love comes
The
best that comes unto
equal of degree
—
And I, the means Nov/, therefore, let
!
him sit
And that the poor and that the low And brave the imminent doom, and fi.x
Should seek no love from those above his faith
Whose souls are fluttered with the flow On his supernal noises, hurtling on
Of airs about their golden height. With restless hand, the bolt that breathes
Or proud because they see arow out fire
Ancestral crowns of light For these things shall not help him
none of them
Antistrophe. Nor hinder his perdition when he falls

Oh ! never, never, may ye. Fates, To shame, and lower than patience.
Behold me with your awful eyes Such a foe
Lift mine too fondly up the skies He doth himself prepare against him-
Wtiere Zeus upon the purple waits !
self,
Nor let me step too near too near — A wonder of unconquerable Hate,
To any suitor, bright from heaven An organiser of sublimer fire
—
Because I see because I fear Than glares in lightnings, and of grander
This loveless maiden vexed and laden sound
 — I — — —
jgS PROMETHEUS BOUND.
Than aught the thunder rolls, — out- Of —
scorn by scorn, the sinner against
thundering it. gods.
With power to shatter in Poseidon's fist The reverencer of men, the thief of —
The trident spear, which, while it plagues fire,—
the sea. I speak to and adjure thee Zeus re- !

Doth shake the shores around it. Ay, quires

and Zeus, Thy declaration of what marriage-rite
Precipitated thus, shall learn at length Thus moves thy vaunt and shall hereaf-
The difference betwixt rule and servi- ter cause
tude. His fall from empire. Do not wrap thy
Chorus. Thou makest threats for speech
Zeus of thy desires. In riddles, but speak clearly ! Never
Projnetheus. I tell you all these cast
things shall be fulfilled. Ambiguous paths, Prometheus, for my
Even so as I desire them. feet—
Chorus. Must we then Since Zeus, thou may'st perceive, is
Look out for one shall come to master scarcely won
Zeus ? To mercy by such means.
Prometheus. These chains weigh Prometheus. A speech well-mouthed
lighter than his sorrows shall. In the utterance, and full minded in the
Chorus. How
art thou not afraid to sense.
utter such words ? As doth a servant of the gods
befit !

Prometheus. What should / fear, New gods, ye newly reign, and think
who
cannot die ? forsooth
Chorus. But he Ye dwell in towers too high for any
Can visit thee with dreader woe than dart
death's. To carry a wound there Have I not !

Projnetheus. Why let him do it !

— stood by
am here, prepared While two kings fell from thence ? and
For all things and their pangs. shall I not
Chorus. The wise are they Behold the third, the .same who rules
Who reverence Adrasteia. you now.
Projnetheus. Reverence thou. Fall,shamed to sudden ruin ? Do I —
Adore thou, flatter thou, whomever seem
reigns. To tremble and quail before your mod-
Whenever reigning —but for me, your ern gods ?
Zeus Far be it from me —
For thyself depart.
!

Is less than nothing ! Let him act and Re-tread thy steps in haste To all !

reign thou hast asked,

His brief hour out according to his I answer nothing.
will- Herjnes. Such a wind of pride
He will not, therefore, rule the gods too Impelled thee of yore full sail upon
long ! these rocks.
But lo I see that courier-god of Zeus,
! Prometheus. I would not barter
That new-made menial of the new- learn thou soothly that !

crowned king My suffering for thy service ! I main-

He doubtless comes to announce to us tain
something new. a nobler thing to serve these rocks
It is
Than live a faithful slave to father
Hermes enters, Zeus
Thus upon scomers I retort their scorn.
Hermes. I speak to thee, the sophist, Hermes. It seems that thou dost
the talker down glory in thy despair.
 —! — ! —

PROMETHEUS BOUND. 199

Prometheus. I, glory ? would my foes And with his white-winged snows, and
did glory so. mutterings deep
And I stood by to see them !
—naming Of subterranean thunders, mix all
whom things ;

Thou unremembered.
art not Confound them in disorder! None of
Hermes. Dost thou charge this
Me also with the blame of thy mis- Shall bend my sturdy will and make me
chance ? speak
Prometheus. I tell thee I loathe the The name of his dethroner who shall
universal gods, come.
Who for the good I gave them rendered Hervies. Can this avail thee ? Look
back to it!
The ill of their injustice. Prometheus. Long ago
Hermes. Thou
I hear thee raving. Titan, at the fever-
art mad It was looked forward
of.
to, —precounselled
height. Hermes. Vain god, take righteous
Prometheus. If it be madness to courage ! — dare for once
abhor my foes. To apprehend and front thine agonies
May I be mad ! With a just prudence !

Hermes. If thou wert prosperous. Protnethetis. Vainly dost thou chafe

Thou wouldst be unendurable. My soul with exhortation, as yonder sea
Prometheus. Alas Goes beating on the rock. Oh think !

Her7nes. Zeus knows not that word. no more

Prometheus. But maturmg time That I, fear-struck by Zeus to a woman's
Doth teach all things. mind.
Hermes. Howbeit, thou hast not Will supplicate him, loathed as he is
learnt With feminine upliftings of my hands.
The wisdom yet, thou needest. To break these chains Far from me be !

Prometheus. If I had, the thought

I should not talk thus with a slave like Hermes. I have indeed, methinks,
thee. said much in vain,
Hermes. No answer thou vouchsaf- For still thy heart, beneath my showers
est, I believe. of prayers.
To the great Sire's requirement. Lies dry and hard nay, leaps like a!
—
Provtetheus. Verily young horse
I owe him grateful service, —and should Who bites against the new bit in his
pay it. teeth.
Hermes. Why dost thou mock me. And tugs and struggles against the new-
Titan, as I stood tried rein,
A child before thy face. Still fiercest in the feeblest thing of all.
Provtetheus. No child, forsooth. Which sophism is, —
since absolute will
But yet more foolish than a foolish disjoined
child, From perfect mind
is worse than weak.
If thou expect that I should answer Behold,
aught Unless my words persuade thee, what a
Thy Zeus can ask. No torture from his blast
hand. And whirlwind of inevitable woe
Nor any machination in the world Must sweep persuasion through thee!
Shall force my utterance, ere he loose, For at first
himself. The Father will split up this jut of rock
These cankerous fetters from me ! For With the great thunder and the bolted
the rest. flame.
Let him now hurl his blanching light- And hide thy body where a hinge of
nings dowa. stone
 — ! — ! —— ! ! — —
PROMETHEUS BOUND.
Shall catch it like an arm ^and when !
— And the brine of the ocean in rapid
thou hast passed emotion,
A long black time within, thou shalt Be it driven in the face
come out Of the stars up in heaven, as they walk
To front the sun, while Zeus's winged to and fro
hound. Let him hurl me anon, into Tartarus
The strong carniverous eagle, shall on
wheel down To the blackest degree.
To meet thee, —self-called to a daily With. Necessity's vortices strangling me
feast. down !

And set his fierce beak in thee, and tear But he cannot join death to a fate meant
off for me !
The long rags of thy flesh, and batten Heri7tes. Why the words that he
deep speaks and the thoughts that he
Upon thy dusky liver ! Do not look thinks.
Yox any end moreover to this curse. Are maniacal —add.
Or ere some god appear, to accept thy If the Fate who hath bound him, should
pangs loose not the links.
On his own head vicarious, and descend He were utterly mad.
With unreluctantstep the darks of hell Then depart ye who groan with him.
And gloomy abysses around Tartarus ! Leaving to moan with him
Then ponder this !
—
this threat is not a Go in haste ! lest the roar of the thun-
growth der anearing
Of vain invention it is spoken and
: Should blast you to idiocy, living and
meant hearing.
King Zeus's mouth is impotent to lie, Chorus. Change thy speech for an-
Consummating the utterance by the other, thy thought for a new.
act If to move me and teach me, indeed
So, look to it, thou ! —take heed ! —and be thy care !

nevermore For thy words swerve so far from the

Forget good counsel, to indulge self-will loyal and true.
Chorus. Our Hermes suits his rea- That the thunder of Zeus seems more
sons to the times easy to bear.
At least I think so ! since — he bids thee How ! couldst teach me to venture such
drop vileness?
Self-will for prudent counsel. Yield to Behold !

him ! I choose, with this victim, this anguish

When the wise err, their wisdom makes foretold
theirshame. I recoil from the traitor in hate and dis-
Prometheus. Unto me the foreknow- dain,
er, this mandate of power And I know that the curse of the trea-
He cries, to reveal it. son is worse
What's strange in my fate, if I suffer Than the pang of the chain.
from hate Henries. Then remember, O nymphs,
At the hourthat I feel it ? what you before.
I tell
Let the locks of the lightning, all brist- Nor, when pierced by the arrows that
ling and whitening. Ate will throw you.
Flash, coiling me round ! Cast blame on your fate and declare
While the ether goes surging 'neath evermore
thunder and scourging That Zeus thrust you on anguLsh he
Of
wild winds unbound ! did not foreshow you.
Let the blast of the firmament whirl Nay, verily, nay for ye perish anon !

from its place For your deed by your choice — by ! —

The earth rooted below. no blindness of doubt.
 — ! — — — ——

A LAMENT FOR ADONIS,

No abruptness of doom ! —but by mad- The white tusk of a boar has transfixed
ness alone. white thigh
his ;

In the great net of Ate, whence none Cytheria grows mad at his thin gap-
Cometh out, ing breath,
Ye are wound and undone !
While the black blood drips down on the
Projnetheits. Ay ! in act, now — in pale ivory,
word, now, no more ! And his eye-balls lie quenched with
Earth is rocking in space !
the weight of his brows.
And the thunders crash up with a roar The rose fades from his lips, and upon
upon roar them just parted
And the eddying lightnings flash fires The kiss dies the goddess consents not
in my face. to lose.
And the whirlwinds are whirling the Though the kiss of the Dead cannot
dust round and round make her glad-hearted
And the blasts of the winds universal, He knows not who kisses him dead in
leap free the dews.
And blow each upon each, with a pas-
sion of sound.
And aether goes mingling in storm I mourn for Adonis —the Loves are la-

with the sea menting.

Sich a curse on my head, in a manifest Deep, deep in the thigh, is Adonis's
dread, wound ;

f rom the hand of your Zeus has been But a deeper, is Cypris's bosom pre-
hurtled along !
senting
O my mother's fair glory O, ^ther, !
The youth lieth dead while his dogs
enringing. howl around,
All eyes, with the sweet common light And the nymphs weep aloud from the
of thy bringing. mists of the hill.
Uost thou see how I suffer this And the poor Aphrodite, with tresses
wrong ?
unbound,
All dishevelled, unsandalled, shrieks
mournful and shrill
Through the dusk of the groves. The
thorns, tearing her feet.
lA LAMENT FOR ADONIS. Gather up the red flower of her blood
FROM BION. which is holy.
Each footstep she takes ; and the val-
leys repeat
I riouRN for Adonis Adonis is dead — !
The sharp cry she utters, and draw it
out slowly.
Fair Adonis is dead, and the Loves
are lamenting. She calls on her spouse, her Assyrian ;
Sleep, Cypris, no more on thy purple- on him
strewed bed !
Her own youth while the dark blood
;

Arise, wretch stoled in black, beat — spreads over his body

The chest taking hue from the gash
thy breast unrelenting,
in the limb.
And shriek to the worlds, Fair Adonis '

is dead.' And the bosom once ivory, turning to

ruddy.

I mourn for Adonis —the Loves are la- Ah, ah, Cytheria ! the Loves are la-
menting. menting :

He lies on the hills, in his beauty and She her fair spouse, and so
lost lost
death,— her fair smile
 — ! —— — ;

A LAMENT FOR ADONIS,

When he lived she was fair by t'he whole To Hell's cruel King goest down with a
world's consenting. scar,
Whose fairness is dead with him woe ! While I weep and live on like a
worth the while wretched immortal,
All the mountains above and the oak-
lands below
And follow no step ; —O Persephone,
take him.
Murmur, ah, ah Adonis! the streams My husband ! — thou'rt better and
overflow brighter than I
Aphrodite's deep wail, river-fountains — So all beauty flows down to thee 1 /
in pity- cannot make him
Weep soft in the hills ; and the flow- Look up at my grief ; there's despair
ers as they blow. in my cry.
Redden outward with sorrow ; while all Since wail for Adonis, who died to mc
I
hear her go . died to me .
. .

With the song of her sadness, through — Then, I fear thee/ Art thou dead, —
mountain and city my Adored ?
Passion ends like a dream in the sleep
that's denied to me.
Ah, ah, Cytheria ! Adonis is dead !
Cypris is widowed ; the Loves seek
Fair Adonis is^dead —Echo answers, their lord
All the house through in vain Charni
Adonis !
!

Who weeps not for Cypris, when bow- of cestus has ceased
ing her head. With thyclasp too bold in the 1 —O
She stares at the wound where it hunt, past preventing ;

gapes and astonies ? Ay, mad thou so fair ... to have strife
:

—When, ah, ah she saw ! — how the with a beast !'

Thus the Goddess wailed on and the —
blood ran away
And empurpled the thigh ; and, with loves are lamenting.
wild hands flung out,
Said with sobs, Stay, Adonis unhappy
'
!

one, stay,
Ah, ah, Cytherea Adonis Is dead.
Let me feel thee once more let me — !

She wept tear after tear, with the blood

ring thee about
which was shed
With the clasp of my arms, and press And both turned into flowers for the
kiss into kiss!
earth's garden-close
Wait a
again.
little, Adonis, and kiss me Her tears, to thewind-flower, his blood
;

—
to the rose.
For the last time, beloved ; ajid but so
much of this
That the kiss may learn life from the
warmth of the strain ! I mourn for Adonis —Adonis is dead.
—Till thy breath shall exude from thy Weep no more in the woods, Cytherea,
soul tor my mouth ;
thy lover I

To my heart and, the love-charm I

; So, well ; make a place for his corse in
once more receiving, thy bed.
May drink thy love in it, and keep of a Withthe purples thou sleepest in, un-
truth der and over.
That one kiss in the place of Adonis He's fair though a corse a fair corse . — .

the living. like a sleeper

Thou fliest me, mournful one, fliest me Lay him soft in the silks he had plea-
far. sure to fold,
My Adonis ; and seekest the Acheron When, beside thee at night, holy dreams
portal, deep and deeper
 ; —— ; ' ; —— ————
! '

BERTHA JN THE LANE. 303

Enclosed his young life on the couch Deep chanting ! he hears not a word
made of gold ! that they say :

Ix>ve him still, poor Adonis cast on ! He would hear, but Persephone has
him together him in keeping.
The crowns and the flowers ! since he —Cease moan, Cytherea — leave pomps
died from the place. for to-day,
Why let all die with him let the blos- — And weep new when a new year
soms go wither ; refits thee for weeping.
Rain myrtles and olive -buds down on
his face :

Rain the myrrh down, let all that is

best fall apining. BERTHA IN THE LANE.
For the myrrh of his life from thy
keeping is swept !
Put the broidery-frame away.
— Pale he lay, thine Adonis, in purples For my sewing is all done !
reclining, The thread is used to-day.
last
The Loves raised their voices around And need net join it on.
I
him and wept. Though the clock stands at the noon
They have shorn their bright curls off
I am weary I have sewn.
!

to cast on Adonis :
Sweet, for thee, a wedding-gown.
One treads on his bow, on his arrows, —
another,
help me to the bed,
Sister,
One breaks up a well-feathered quiver ; And stand near me. Dearest-sweet I
and one is
Bent low at a sandal, untying the
Do not shrink nor be afraid,
Blushing with a sudden heat
strings
And one carries the vases of gold from
No one standeth in the street ?
By God's love I go to meet.
the springs.
Love I thee with love complete.
While one washes the wound and be- ;

hind them a brother

Lean thy face down drop it in !
Fans down on the body sweet air
These two hands, that I may hold
with his wings.
'Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin.
Stroking back the curls of gold.
'Tis a fair, fair face, in sooth
Larger eyes and redder mouth
Cytherea herself, now, the Loves are Than mine were in my first youth I
lamenting.
Each torch at the door Hymenseus
Thou art younger by seven years
blew out
And the marriage-wreath dropping Its
Ah ! —
so bashful at gaze. my
That the lashes, hung with tears.
leaves as repenting,
No more Hymen, Hymen,'
'
is chant-
Grow too heavy to upraise ?

ed about,
Iwould wound thee by no touch
But the ai ai instead — ' ai alas ' is begun Which thy shyness feels as such
Dost thou mind me, Dear, so much?
For Adonis, and then follows ' ai
Hymenaeus !

The Graces are weeping for Cinyris' son Have I not been nigh a mother
Sobbing low, each to each, His fair ' To thy sweetness— tell me. Dear?
eyes cannot see us ' !
Have we not loved one another
Their wail strikes more shrill than the Tenderly, from year to year.
sadder Dione's Since our dying mother mild
The Fates mourn aloud for Adonis, Said with accents undefiled,
Adonis, '
Child, be mother to this child !
 ————— — —— —
! :

BERTHA IN THE LANE.

Mother, mother, up in heaven. Sang our pauses out or oft —
Stand up on the jasper sea. Bleatings took them, from the croft.
And be witness I have given
All the gifts required of me, grown too strong
Till the pleasure
Hope that blessed me, bliss that Left me muter evermore ;

crowned. And, the winding road being long,

Love, that left me with a wound. I walked out of sight, before.
Life itself, that turneth round ! And so, wrapt in musings fond.
Issued {past the wayside pond)
Mother, mother, thou art kind. On the meadow -lands beyond.
Thou art standing in the room.
In a molten glory shrined, down beneath
I sate the beech
That rays off into the gloom ! Which leans over to the lane.
But thy smile is bright and bleak And the far sound of your speech
—
Like cold waves I cannot speak ;
Did not promise any pain ;

I sob in it, and grow weak. And I blessed you full and free.
With a smile stooped tenderly
Ghostly mother, keep aloof O'er the May-flowers on my knee.
One hour longer from my soul
For I still am thinking of But the sound grew into word
Earth's warm-beating joy and dole :
As the speakers drew more near
On my finger is a ring Sweet, forgive me that 1 heard
Which 1 still see glittering. What you wished me not to hear.
When the night hides everything. —
Do not weep so do not shake
Little sister, thou art pale
—
Oh, I heard thee. Bertha, make
!
Good true answers for my sake.
Ah, I have a wandering brain
But I lose that fever-bale. Yes, and he too let him stand
!

And my thoughts grow calm again. In thy thoughts, vmtouched by blame.

—
Lean down closer closer still !
Could he help it, if my hand
I have words thine ear to fill, He had claimed with hasty claim ?
And would kiss thee at my will. That was wrong perhaps but then —
Dear, heard thee in the spring.
—
Such things be and will, again 1
I Women cannot judge for men.
Thee and Robert — through the trees
When we all went gathering
Had he seen thee when he swore
Boughs of May-bloom for the bees. He would love but me alone.
Do not start so think instead
!

How the sunshine overhead

—
Thou wert absent, sent before
To our kin in Sidmouth town.
Seemed to trickle through the shade. When he saw thee who art best
Past compare, and loveliest.
What a day
it was, that day !
He but judged thee as the rest.
Hillsand vales did openly
Seem to heave and throb away Could we blame him with grave words.
At the sight of the great sky. Thou and I, Dear, if we might?
And the Silence, as it ^tood Thy brown eyes have looks like birds.
In the Glory's golden flood. Flying straightway to the light
Audibly did bud and bud.— INIine arc older. —
Hush look out
! —
Up the street Is none without ?
!

Through the winding hedgerows green, How the poplar swings about
How we wandered, I and you,
With the bowery tops shut in. And that hour —beneath the beech.
And the gates that showed the view When I listened in a dream.
How wo talked there I thrushes soft And he said, in his deep speech.
 — — —— . ——— — —
BERTHA IN THE LANE.

That he owed me all esteem, — I am pale as crocus grows

Each word swana in on my brain Close beside a rose-tree's root I

With a dim. dilating pain. Whosoe'er would reach the rose.

Till It Durst with that last strain— Treads the crocus underfoot
/, like May-bloom on thorn tree

I fell flooded with a Dark, Thou, like merry summer-bee !

In the silence of a swoon Fit, that / be plucked for thee.

When cold and stark.
I rose, still
—
—
There was night, I saw the moon Yet who plucks me ? no one mourns
I have lived my season out.
:

And the stars, each in its place,

my own
And the May-blooms on the grass.
And now die of thorns
Seemed to wonder what I was.
Which I could not li\e without.
Sweet, be merry How the light
!

Comes and goes If it be night.

!

And I walked as if apart Keep the candles in my sight.

From myself when I could
And I pitied my own heart,
As if I held it in my hand.
Somewhat coldly, with a sense
Of fulfilled benevolence.
And a Poor thing negligence.
' '
And I answered coldly too,
When you met me at the door
And I only heard the dew
Dripping from me to the floor
And the flowers I bade you see
Were too withered for the bee.
As my life, henceforth for me.
—
Do not weep so Dear heart-warm
stand
Are there footsteps at the door ?
Look out quickly. Yea, or nay?
— Some one might be waiting for
Some last word that I might say.
Nay ? So best !
—
So angels would
Stand off"clear from deathly road.
Not to cross the sight of God.
; Colder grow my hands and feet
When I wear the shroud I made.
:
Let the folds lie straight and neat.
And the rosemary be spread.
That if any friend should come,
(To see thee, sweet 1) all the room
May be lifted out of gloom.
— !

keep me
It was best as it befell ! And, de.ar Bertha, let
If I say he did me harm, On my hand this little ring.
I speak it wild, —
I am not well. Which at nights, when others sleep,
All his words were kind and good- I can still see glittering.
He esteemed me ! Only blood Let me wear it out of sight.
Runs so faint in womanhood. —
In the grave, where it will light
All the Dark up, day and night.
Then I always was too grave,
Liked the saddest ballads sung, On that grave, drop not a tear !

With that look, besides, we have

Else, though fathom-deep the place.
Through the woollen shroud I wear
In our faces, who die young.
I shall feel it on my face.
I had died. Dear, all the same-
Life's long, joyous, jostling game
Rather smile there, blessed one,
my
meek shame. Thinking of me in the sun
Is too loud for
—
Or forget me smiling on !

We are so unlike each other. Art thou near me ? nearer ? so.

Thou and I that none could guess

;
Kiss me close upon the eyes.
We were children of one mother. That the earthly light may go
Bat for mutual tenderness. Sweetly as it used to rise.
Thou art rose-lined from the cold. When I watched the morning-gray
And meant, verily, to hold Strike, betwixt the hills, the way
Life's pure pleasures manifold. He was sure to come that day.
 — —— — — !

THE R UNA WA Y SLA VE.

So, —
no more vain words be said ! Of my grief— (guess the length of the
The hosannas nearer roll sword by the sheath's)
Mother, smile now on thy Dead, By the silence of life, more pathetic
I am death -strong in my soul. than death's
Mystic Dove alit on cross. Go, —be c»ear of that day I

Guide the poor bird of the snows

Through the snow-wind above loss!

Jesus, Victim, comprehending LIFE AND LOVE.

Love's divine self-abnegation.
Cleanse my love in self-spending.
And absorb the poor libation !

Wind my thread of life up higher.
Up, through angels' hands of fire
I aspire while I expire
Fast this life of mine was dying,
1
Blind already and calm as death ;
1
Snowflakes on her bosom lying
Scarcely heaving with the breath.

THAT DAY, Love came by, and having known her

In a dream of fabled lands.
I STAND by the river where both of us Gently stooped, and laid upon her
stood.
Mystic chrism of holy hands •

And there is but one shadow to darken

the flood ;

And the path leading to it, where both

used to pass. Drew his smile across her folded
Has the step but of one, to take dew Eyelids, as the swallow dips,
from the grass, Breathed as finely as the cold did.
One forlorn since that day. Through the locking of her lips.

The flowers of the margin are many to

see. So,when Life looked upward, being
For none stoops at my bidding to pluck Warmed and breathed on from above.
them for me ;
What sight could she have for seeing.
The bird in the alder sings loudly and Evermore but only Love ?
long.
For my low sound of weeping disturbs
not his song.
As thy vow did that day

I stand by the river — I think of the THE RUNAWAY SLAVE

vow
Oh, calm as the place is, vow-breaker AT IMLGRIM's I'OINT.
be thou !
I leave the flower growing the bird, —
unreproved, I STAND on the mark beside the shore
Would I trouble tftee rather than them, Of the first white pilgrim's bended
my beloved. knee.
And my lover that day ? Where exile turned to ancestor.
And God was thanked for liberty. .

Go ! be sure of my love by that trea- — I have run through the night, my skin i»
son forgiven ; as dark.
Of —
my prayers by the blessings they I bend my knee down on this mark . .

win thee from Heaven ; I look on the sky and the sea.
 ; ! —— — : —
: !

THE R UNA WA V SLA VE. TCTf

On ^1 His children fatherly.

O pilgrim souls, I speak to you To save them from the dread and
I see you come out proud and slow doubt
From the land of the spirits pale as Which would be, if. from this low place,
dew . .
All opened straight up to His face
Into the grand eternity.
And round me and round me you go !

O pilgrims, I have gasped and run

All night long from the whips of one
Who in your names works sin and And still God's sunshine and His frost.
They make us hot, they make us cold.
And if we were not black and lost :

And the beasts and birds, in wood and

And thus I thought that 1 would come fold.
And kneel here where ye knelt before. Do fear and take us for very men 1

And feel your souls around me hum Could the weep-poor-will or the cat of
In undertone to the ocean's roar ;
the glen
And lift my black face, my black hand. Look into my eyes and be bold 1
Here, in your names, to curse this land
Ye blessed in freedom's evermore.

I am black, I am black !

But, once I laughed in girlish glee

I am black, 1 am black ;
For one of my color stood in the track
;

And yet God made me, they say.

But if he did so, smiling back
Where the drivers drove, and looked
He must have cast his work away at me
Under the feet of his white creatures, And tender and full was the look he
With a look of scorn, that the dusky — gave :

Could a slave look so at another

features
slave ?
Might be trodden again to clay.
I look at the sky and the sea.

And yet He ha', made dark things

To be glad and merry as light. And from that hour our spirits grew
There's a little dark bird, sits and sings As free as if unsold, unbought
Oh, strong enough, since we were two.
;

There's a dark stream ripples out of

sight To conquer the world we tSiought
And the dark frogs chant in the safe
The drivers drove us day by day ;

morass. We did not mind, we went one way

And the sweetest stars are made to pass And no better a freedom sought.
O'er the face of the darkest night.

In the sunny ground between the canes.

But zue who are dark, we are dark ! He said I love you as he passed
' '
:

Ah God, we have no stars ! When the shingle-roof rang sharp with

About our souls in care and cark the rains,
Our blackness shuts like prison-bars : I heard how he vowed it fast
The poor souls crouch so far behind. While others shook he smiled in the hut
That never a comfort can they find As he carved me a bowl of the cocoa-
By reaching through the prison-bars. nut
Through the roar of the hurricanes.
VII.

Indeed we live beneath the sky.

That great smooth Hand of God I sang his name instead of a song ;

stretched out Over and over I sang his name

 — —— :! — — —
2o8 THE RUNA IVA Y SLA VE.

Upward and downward I drew it along

My various notes ; the same, the For hark ! I will tell you low . . low . .
same !
I am black, you see,
I sang it low, that the slave girls near And the babe who lay on my bosom so.
Might never guess from aught they Was far too white . too white for
could hear. me
It was only a name —a name. As white
;

as the ladies who scorned to

pray
XIII. Beside me
church but yesterday
at :

I look on the sky and the sea Though my tears had washed a place
We were two to love, and two to
for my knee.
pray,—
Yes, two, O God, who cried
to Thee, My own, own child ! I could not bear
Though nothing didst Thou say. To look in his face, it was so white.
ColdlyThou sat'st behind the sun !
I covered him up with a kerchief there
And now I cry who am but one. I covered his face in close and tight
;

Thou wilt speak to-day. And he moaned and struggled, as well

might be.
For the white child wanted his liberty
Ha, ha he wanted the master right.
!

We were black, »we were black !

We had no claim to love and bliss :

XIX.
What marvel, if each went to wrack ?
They wrung my cold hands out of He moaned and beat with his head and
feet,
his,
They dragged him . . where ? . . I
His that never grew
little feet

crawled to touch He struck them out, as it was meet,

His blood's mark in the dust not ! . .
Against my heart to break it through.
much, Imight have sung and made him mild
Ye pilgrim-souls, though plain as
. .
But I dared not sing to the white-faced
child
this ! The only song I knew.

Wrong followed by a deeper wrong I pulled the kerchief very close :

Mere grief's too good for such as I. He (fculd not see the sun, I swear
So the white men brought the shame ere More, then, alive, than now he does
long From between the root.s of the man-
To strangle the sob of my agony. go .. where ? .

They would not leave me for my dull I know where. Close a child and
Wet eyes — it was too merciful
!

!
mother
To let me weep pure tears and die.
Do wrong to look at one another,
When one is black and one is fair.
XVI.
I am black, I am black !

I wore a child upon my breast . . Why, in that single glance I had

An amulet that hung too slack, Of my child's face, 1 tell you all, . .

And, in my unrest, could not rest I saw a look that made me mad . .

Thus we went moaning, child and The master's look, that used to fall
mother On my soul like his lash or worse !— .

One to another, one to another, And so, to save it from my curse,

Until all ended for the best : I twisted it round in my shawl.
 : —— ) — — !

THE R UNA IVA \ SLA VE. '

09
XXII. XXVII.
And he moaned and trembled from foot Yet when it was all done aright, . .

to head, Earth, 'twixt me and my baby,

He shivered from head to foot ;
strewed, . .

Till, after a time, he lay mstead All changed to black earth, nothing . .

Too suddenly still and mute. white, . .

I felt beside a stiffening cold . . Adark child in the dark, ensued —

I dared to lift up just a fold, . . Some comfort, and my heart grew
As in lifting a leaf of the mango-fruit. young :

I sate down smiling there and sung

XXIII. The song I learnt in my maidenhood.
But my fruit . . ha, ha ! — there had been XXVIII.
laugh to think on't at this hour
{I .) ! .

Your fine white angels, who have seen And thus we two were reconciled.
Nearest the secret of God's power, . . The white child and black mother,
And plucked my fruit to make them thus :

wine. For, as I sang it soft and wild

And sucked the soul of that child of The same song, more melodious.
mine. Rose from the grave whereon I sate
As the humming-bird sucks the soul It was the dead child singing that.
of the flower. To join the souls of both of us.

Ha, ha, the trick of the angels white !

I look on the sea and the sky !

They freed the white child's spirit so. Where the pilgrims' ships first an-
I said not a word, but, day and night, chored lay.
I carried the body to and fro ;
The free sun rideth gloriously
And it lay on my heart like a stone . .
But the pilgrim -ghosts have slid away
;

as chill. Through the earliest streaks of the mom.

— ^The sun may shine out as much as he My face is black, but it glares with a
will scorn
I am cold, though it happened a Which they dare not meet by day.
month ago.
XXV. XXX.
From the white man's house, and the Ah !
— in their 'stead, their hunter sons !

black man's hut, Ah, ah they are on me — they hunt

!

I carried the little body on. a ring

in
The forest's arms did round us shut. Keep off! I brave you all at once
And silence through the trees did run : I throw off your eyes like snakes that
They asked no question as I went, sting !

They stood too high for astonishment, You have killed the black eagle at. nest,
They could see God sit on his throne. I think :

Did you never stand still in your tri-

XXVI. umph, and shrink
My littlebody, kerchiefed fast, From the stroke of her wounded
I bore it on through the forest . . on :
wing ?

And when I felt it was tired at last,

I scooped a hole beneath the moon. XXXI.
Through the forest-tops the angels far. (Man, drop that stone you dared to
With a white shape finger from every lift !—
star, I wish you who stand there five
Did point and mock at what was done. abreast,
 ! —
! —

A CHILD'S GRAVE AT FLORENCE.

Each, for his own wife's joy and gift, Of liberty's exquisite pain
A little
corpse as safely at rest In the name of the white child waiting
As mine in the mangoes Yes, but she !
— for me
May keep live babies on her knee, In the death-dark where we may kiss
And sing the song she liketh best. and agree.
White men, I leave you all curse-free
xxxn. In my broken heart's disdain !

I amnot mad I am black.

:

I see you staring in my face—

I know you staring, shrinking back
Ye are born of the Washington-race :
A CHILD'S GRAVE AT FLOR
And this land is the free America :
ENCE.
And this mark on my wrist (I prove , .

what I say) A. A. E. C.
Ropes tied me up here to the Hog-
Born July, 1S48. Diki> Novkmbkr, 1849.
ging-place.

XXXIII. Of English blood, of Tuscan birth, . .

You think I shrieked then? Not a What country should we give her ?
sound Instead of any on the earth.
1 hung, as a gourd hangs in the sun. The civic Heavens receive her.
I only cursed them all around.
As softly as I might have done
My very own child !— From these sands Ana here, among the English tombs.
Up to the mountains, lift your hands, In Tuscan ground we lay her.
O slaves, and end what I begun !
While the blue Tuscan sky endomes
Our English words of prayer.
XXXIV.
Whips, curses those must answer those
;
!

For in this Union, you have set A little child !—how long she lived.
Two kinds of men in adverse rows. By months, not years, is reckoned ;

Each loathing each and all forget :

Born in one July, she survived
The seven wounds in Christ's body fair ;
Alone to see a second.
While He sees gaping everywhere
Our countless wounds that pay no
debt.
Bright-featured, as the July sun
XXXV. Her little face still played in.
Your white
And splendours, with her birth begun.
Our wounds are different. Had had no time for fading.
men
Are, after all, not gods mdeed.
Nor able to make Christs again
So. Lily, from those July hours.
Do good with bleeding. We who
No wonder we should call her :

bleed .
, ,
She looked such kinship to the flowers.
(Stand off !) w^ help not in our loss
We are too heavy for our cross. Was but a little taller.
And fall and crush you and your seed.
A Tuscan Lily, only white . .

As Dante, in abhorrence
I fall. I swoon look at the sky
! 1 :

The clouds are breaking on my bram ;

Of red corruption, wished aright
I am floated along as if I should die The lilies of his Florence.
 — ! ! ! !

A CHILD'S GRAFE AT FLORENCE.

We could not wish her whiter, Her . . But winter kills the orange-buds.
Who perfumed with pure blossom The gardens in the frost are ;

The house —a lovely thmg

I to wear And all the heart dissolves in floods.
Upon a mother's bosom ! Remembering we have lost her !

This July creature thought perhaps Poor earth, poor heart too weak, too
!
—
Our speech not worth assuming : weak.
She sate upon her parents' laps. To miss the July shining !

And mimicked the gnat's humming ; Poor heart ! —

what bitter words we
speak,
When God speaks of resigning 1

. . Said ' Father,' '

Mother '—then
! left
off;
For tongues celestial, fitter. Sustain this heart in us that faints.
Her hair had grown just long enough Thou God, the self-existent
To catch Heaven's jasper-glitter. We catch up wild at parting saints.
And feel thy Heaven too distant
XVIII.
Babes Love could always hear and see
!

Behind the cloud that hid them ;

The wind that swept them out of sin.
' Let little children come to me, Has ruffled all our vesture :

And do not thou forbid them.' On the shut door that let them in.
We beat with frantic gesture ;

So, unforbidding we have met,

And gently here have laid her ;
To us, —
us also open straight
Though winter is no time to get The outer life is chilly
The flowers that should o'erspread Are 7ve too, like the earth to wait
her. Till next year for our Lily ?

We should bring pansies quick with —Oh, my own baby on my knees.

spring. My leaping, dimpled treasure.
Rose, violet, daffodilly, At every word I write like these.
And also, above everything. Clasped close, with stronger pressure !

White lilies for our Lily.

XIII.

Nay, more than flowers, this grave Too well my own heart understands
exacts .
At every word beats fuller . . .

Glad, grateful attestations

My little feet, my little hands.
Of her sweet eyes and pretty acts. And hair of Lily's colour
With calm renunciations.

—But God gives patience. Love learns

Her very mother with light feet strength,
Should leave the place too earthy. And Faith remembers promise ;

Saying, 'The angels have thee, sweet. And hope itself can smile at length
Because we arc not worthy.' On other hopes gone from us.
 — — ! ——— —

A CHILD'S GRAVE AT FLORENCE.

To us, the silence in the house,

Love, strong as Dea,th, shall conquer To her, the choral singing !

Death,
Though struggle, made more glorious :
XXIX.
This mother stills her sobbing breath. '
For her to gladden in God's view,
Renouncing, yet victorious. For us to hope and bear on !

Grow, Lily, in thy garden new.

Beside the Rose of Sharon.
Arms, empty of her child, she lifts.
With spirit unbereaven XXX.
'
God will not all take back His gifts '
Grow fast in Heaven, sweet Lily
My Lily's mine in Heaven 1 clipped.
In love more calm than this is,
And may the angels dewy-lipped
Still mine, maternal rights serene Remind thee of our kisses !

Not given to another !

The crystal bars shine faint between XXXI,

The souls of child and mother. '
While none shall tell thee of our tears,

XXVI. These human tears now falling ;

Till, after a few patient years.

' Meanwhile,' the mother cries, ' con-
One home shall take us all in ;

tent I

Our lovewas well divided ;

Its sweetness following where she went,

XXXII.
Its anguish stayed where I did. '
Child, father, mother who, — left out t
Not mother, and not father !

xxvii.
And when, their dying couch about.
• Well done of God, to halve the lot. The natural mists shall gather,
And give her all the sweetness
To us the empty room and cot, XXXIII.
To her, the Heaven's completeness :

XXVIII.
To us, this grave — to her, the rows
The mystic palm trees spring in
'
smiling angel close shall stand
Some
In old Correggio's fashion.
And bear a Lily in his hand.
: For death's annunciation.'
 ——
; —

LADY GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

A ROAIANCE OF THE AGE.
A j^oet —Place— A roo>n
ivrites to his friend in Wycombe Hall. Time —Late
in the evening.

Dear my friend and fellow-student, I would lean my spirit o'er you ;

Down the purple of this chamber, tears should scarcely run at will :

I am humbled who was humble Friend, — 1 bow my head before you

1 !

You should lead me to my peasants — but their faces are too still.
!

—
There's a lady an earl's daughter she is proud and she is noble
; :

And she treads the crimson carpet, and she breathes the perfumed air ;

And a kingly blood sends glances up her princely eye to trouble.

And the shadow of a monarch's crown is softened in her hair.
She lias halls among the woodlands, she has castles by the breakers.
She has farms and she has manors, she can threaten and command.
And the palpitating engines snort in steam across her acres,
As they mark upon the blasted heaven the measure of her land.

There are none of England's daughters who can show a prouder presence ;

Upon princely suitors praying, she has looked in her disdain :

She has sprung of English nobles, I was born of English peasants ;

—
What was /that I should love her save for competence to pain !

I was only a poorpoet, made for singing r.t her casement.

As the finches or the thrushes, while she thought of other things.
Oh, she walked so high above me, she appeared to abasement, my
la her lovely silken murmur, like an angel clad in wings !

Many vassals bow before her as her carriage sweeps their door-ways ;

—
She has blest their little children, as a priest or queen were she.
Far too tender or too cruel far, her smile upon the poor was.
For I thought it was the same smile which she used to smile on me.

She has voters in the commons, she has lovers in the palace
And of all the fair court-ladies, few have jewels half as fine :

Oft the prince has named her beauty, 'twixt the red wine and the chalice :

Oh, and what was /to love her ? my Beloved, my Geraldine !

Yet I could not choose but love her — I was born to poet uses
To love all things set above me, all of good and all of fair :

Nymphs of mountain, not of valley, we are wont to call the Muses

And in nympholeptic climbing, poets pass from mount to star.

And because I was a poet, and because the people praised me.
With their critical deduction for the modern writer's fault
I —
could sit at rich men's tables, though the courtesies that raised me.
Still suggested clear between us the pale spectrum of the salt.
 — — — ——— '

ai4 LADV CERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

And they praised me her presence — Will your book appear summer
Then returning to each other— Yes, our plans are for the moors
in : ' this 1

Then with whisper dropped behind me — There he

' ;

the ' is ! latest comer !

Oh, she only likes his verses ! what is over, she endures.

'Quite low born self-educated somewhat gifted though by nature,

! !

And we make a point by asking him. of being very kind ; —

You may speak, he does not hear you and besides, he writes no satire,;

All these serpents kept by charmers, leave their natural sting behind.'

I grew scornfuller, grew colder, as I stood up there among them.

Till as frost intense will burn you, the cold scorning scorched my brow ;

AVhen a sudden silver speaking, gravely cadenced, overrung them.

And a sudden silken stirring touched my inner nature through.
I looked upward and beheld her With a calm and regnant spirit.
!

Slowly round she swept her eyelids, and said clear before them all
•Have you such superfluous honor, sir, that able to confer it
You will come down, Mr. Bertram, as my guest to Wycombe Hall ? '

Here she paused, — she had been paler at the first word of her speaking ;

But because a silence followed it, blushed somewhat, as for shame

'I'hen, as scorning her own feeling, resumed calmly I am seeking
— '
;

More distinction than these gentlemen think worthy of my claim.

' —
Nevertheless, you see, I seek it not because I am a woman,*
(Here her smile sprang like a fountain, and, so, overflowed her mouth)
'But because my woods in Sussex have some purple shades at gloaming
Which are worthy of a king in state, or poet in his youth.
' you, Mr. Bertram, to no scene for worldly speeches
1 invite
Sir, I —
scarce should dare but only where God asked the thrushes first
And you will sing beside them, in the covert of my beeches,
\\

I will thank you for the woodlands, for the human world at worst.'
. . .

Then she smiled around right childly, then she gazed around right queenly ;

And I bowed — I could not answer Alternate light and gloom

!

While as one who quells the lions, with a steady eye serenely.
She, with level fronting eyelids, passed out stately from the room.

Oh, the blessed woods of Sussex, I can hear them still around me.
With their leafy tide of greenery still rippling up the wind !

Oh, the cursed woods of Sussex where the hunter's arrow found me.
!

When a fair face and a tender voice had made me mad and blind !

In that ancient hall of Wycombe, thronged the numerous guests invited.

And the lovely London ladies trod the floors with gliding feet ;

And their voices low with fashion, not with feeling, softly freighted
All the air about the windows, with elastic laughters sweet.

Forat eve, the open windows flung their light out on the terrace.
Which the floating orbs of curtains did with gradual shadow sweep ;

While the swans upon the river, fed at morning by the heiress.
Trembled downward through their snowy wings at music in their sleep.
 ! — — —

LADV GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

And there evermore was music, both of instrument and singing ;

Till the finches of the shrubberiesgrew restless in the dark ;

But the cedars stood up motionless, each in a moonlight ringing.
And the deer, half in the glimmer, strewed the hollows of the park.
And though sometimes she would bind me with her silver-corded speeches.
To commix my words and laughter with the converse and the jest.
Oft I sat apart, and gazing on the river through the beeches.
Heard, as pure the swans swam down it, her pure voice o'erfloat the rest.

In the morning, horn of huntsman, hoof of steed, and laugh of rider.

Spread out cheery from the court-yard till we lost them in the hills ;

While herself and other ladies, and her suitors left beside her.
Went a-wandering up the gardens through the laurels and abeles.
—
Thus, her foot upon the new-mown grass bareheaded with the flowing —
Of the virginal white vesture gathered closely to her throat ;

With the golden ringlets in her neck just quickened by her going.
And appearing to breathe sun for air, and doubting if to float,
With a branch of dewy maple, which her right hand held above her.
And which trembled a green shadow in betwixt her and the skies.
As she turned herface in going, thus, she drew me on to love her.
And to worship the divineness of the smile hid in her eyes.

Frr her eyes alone smile constantly her lips have serious sweetness,
:

—
A nd her front is calm the dimple rarely ripples on her cheek :

—
But her deep blue eyes smile constantly, as if they in discreetness
Kept the secret of a happy dream she did not care to speak.

Thus she drew me the first morning, out across into the garden :

And I walked among her noble friends and could not keep behind
Spake she unto all and unto me —
Behold, I am the warden
'
;

Of the song birds in these lindens, which are cages to their mind.
' But within this swarded circle, into which the lime-walk brings us
Whence the beeches rounded greenly, stand away in reverent fear ;

I will let no music enter, saving what the fountain sings us.
Which the lilies round the basin may seem pure enough to hear.

'The live air that waves the lilies waves this slender jet of water
Like a holy thought sent feebly up from soul of fasting saint !

Whereby lies a marble Silence, sleeping (Lough the sculptor wrought

! her.)
—
So asleep she is forgetting to say Hush ! a fancy quaint
' Mark how heavy white her eyelids not a dream between them lingers
! I

And the left hand's index droppeth from the lips upon the cheek :

And the right hand, —

with the symbol rose held slack within the fingers,
Has fallen back within the basin —
yet this Silence will not speak !

' essential meaning growing may exceed the special symbol.

That the
Is the thought as I conceive it it applies more high and low.
:

Our true noblemen will often through right nobleness grow humble.
And assert an inward honor by denying outward show.'
 — —— ——
!

8i6 J,ADV GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

'Nay, your Silence,' said I, truly holds her symbol rose but slackly.
'

—
Yet she holds it or would scarcely be a Silence to our ken !

And your nobles wear their ermine on the outside, or walk blackly
In the presence of the social law as most ignoble men.

'
Let the poets drec"i such dreaming ! Madam, in these British Islands,
'Tis the substance that wanes ever, 'tis the symbol that exceeds ;
Soon we shall have nought but symbol and for statues like this Silence,
!

—
Shall accept the rose's image in another case, the weed's.*

• Not so quickly !' she retorted, —

I confess where'er you go, you
'

—
Find for things, names shows for actions, and pure gold for honor clear ;
But when all is run to symbol in the Social, I will throw you
The world's book which now reads drily, and sit down with Silence here.'

Half in playfulness she spoke, I thought, and half in indignation ;

Friends who listened laughed her words off while her lovers deemed her fair.
A fair woman — flushed with feeling, in her noble-lighted station
Near the statue's white reposing —and both bathed in sunny air
With the trees round, not so distant but you heard their vernal murmur.
And beheld in light and shadow the leaves in and outward move ;

And the little fountain leaping toward the sun-heart to be warmer.

And recoiling in a tremble from the too much light above.
'Tis a picture for remembrance and thus, morning after morning.
!

Did I follow as she drew me by the .spirit to her feet

Why, her grayhound followed also dogs we both were dogs for
! — scorning—
To be sent back when she pleased it and her path lay through the wheat.

And thus, morning after morning, spite of vows and spite of sorrow.
Did I follow at her drawing, while the week-days passed along ;

Tust to feed the swans this noontide, or to see the fawns to-morrow,
'Or to teach the hill-side echo some sweet Tuscan in a song.

Ay, for sometimes on the hill-side, while we .sat down in the gowans.
With the forest green behind us, and its shadow cast before ;

And the river running imder ; and across it from the rowans
A brown partridge whirring near us, till we felt the air it bore

There, obedient to her praying, did I read aloud the poems

?'!ade by Tuscan flutes, or instruments more various of our own ;
—
P.ead the pastoral parts of Spenser or the subtle uiterflowings
— —
Found in Petrarch's sonnets here's the book the leaf is folded down 1—

Or at times a modern volume. —

Wordsworth's solemn-thoughted idyl,
ITowitt's ballad-verse, or Tennyson's enchanted reverie,
Or from Browning some Pomegranate,' which, if cut deep down
' the middle.
Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

Or at times I read there, hoarsely, some new poem of my making

Poets ever fail in reading their own verses to their worth.
For the echo in you breaks upon the words which you are speaking.
And the chariot-wheels jar in the gate through which you drive them forth.
 — — ——— —
LADV GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP. 217

After, when we were grown tired of books, the silence round us flinging
A slow arm of sweet compression, felt with beatings at the breast.
She would break out on a sudden, in a gash of woodland singing.
—
Like a child's emotion in a god a naiad tired of rest.
Oh, to see or hear her singing scarce I know which is divinest
!

—
For her looks sing too she modulates her gestures on the tune ;

And her mouth stirs with the song, like song and when the notes are ; finest,
'Tis the eyes that shoot out vocal light and seem to swell them on.

Then we talked —oh, how we talked her voice, so cadenced

! in the talking.
Made another singing —of the soul a music without bars
!

While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming round where we were walkings
—
Brought interposition worthy sweet, as skies about the stars.

And she spake such good thoughts natural, as if she always thought them
And had sympathies so rapid, open, free as bird on branch
Just as ready to fly east as west, whichever way besought them.
In the birchen wood a chirrup, or a cock-crow in the grange.

—
In her utmost Tightness there is truth and often she speaks lightly.
Has a grace in being gay, which even mournful souls approve.
For the root of some grave earnest thought is under-struck so rightly.
As to justify the foliage and the waving flowers above.

And she talked on lue talked, rather upon all things substance —shadow—
! —
Of the sheep that browsed the grasses— of the reapers in the corn
Of the little children from the schools, seen winding through the meadow
Of the poor rich world beyond them, still kept poorer by its scorn.
—
So of men, and so, of letters books are men of higher stature.
And the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear :

So, ofmankind in the abstract, which grows slowly into nature.

Yet will lift the cry of progress,' as it trod from sphere to sphere.
'

And her custom was to praise me when I said, The Age culls simplea — '

With a broad clown's back turned broadly to the glory of the stars
—
We are gods by our own reck'ning, and may well shut up the temples,
And wield on, amid the incense-steam, the thunder of our cars.
For we throw out acclamations of self-tlianking, self-admiring.
—
'

With, at every mile run faster, O the wondrous wondrous age,'

'

Litde thinking if we work our souls as nobly as our iron.

Or if angels will commend us at the goal of pilgrimage.

•*
Why, what is this patient entrance into nature's deep resources.
But the child's most gradual learning to walk upright without bane?
When we drive out from the cloud of steam, majestical white horses.
Are we greater than the first men who led black ones by the mane %

'
we trod the deeps of ocean, if we struck the stars in rising.
If
If we wrapped the globe intensely with a one hot electric breath,
—
Twere but power within our tether no new spirit-power comprising
And in life we were not greater men, nor bolder men in death,'
 ———— :

ai8 LADY GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP,

—
She was patient with my talking and I loved her loved her certes.
;

As I loved all Heavenly objects, with uplifted eyes and hands !

As —
loved pure inspirations loved the graces, loved the virtues.
I
In a Love content with writing his owa name on desert sands.

Or at least I thought so purely —

thought no idiot Hope was raising
!

Any crown to crown Love's silence —

silent Love that sat alone
—
Out, alas ! the stag is like me he, that tries to go on grazing
With the great deep gun-wound in his neck, then reels with sudden moan.

Itwas thus I reeled I told you that her hand had many suitors
!

But she smiles them down imperially, as Venus did the waves
And with such a gracious coldness, that they cannot press their futures
On the present of her courtesy, which yieldingly enslaves.
And this morning, as I sat alone within the inner chamber
With the great saloon beyond it lost in pleasant thought serene
ForI had been reading Camoens —
that poem you remember.
Which his lady's eyes are praised in, as the sweetest ever seen.

And the book lay open, and my thought flew from it, taking from it

A vibration and impulsion to an end beyond its own.

As the branch of a green osier, when a child would overcome it.
Springs up freely from his clasping and goes swinging in the sun.

As I mused I heard a murmur, ——

it grew deep as it grew longer

Speakers using earnest language Lady Geraldine, you zvould I'

'

And I heard a voice that pleaded ever on, in accents stronger

As a sense of reason gave it power to make its rhetoric good.
—
Well I knew that voice it was an earl's, of soul that matched his station-
—
Soul completed into lordship might and right read on his brow :

—
Very finely courteous far too proud to doubt his domination
—
Of the common people, he atones for grandeur by a bow.
High straight forehead, nose of eagle, cold blue eyes, of less expression
Than resistance, coldly casting off the looks of other men.
—
As steel, arrows, unelastic lips, which seem to taste possession.
And be cautious lest the common air should injure or distrain.
—
For the rest, accomplished, upright ay, and standing by his order
With a bearing not ungraceful fond of art, and letters too ;
;

—
Just a good man made a proud man, as the sandy rocks that border
A wild coast, by circumstances, in a regnant ebb and flow.

— —
I'hus I knew that voice I heard it and I could not help the hearkening
In the room I stood up blindly, and my
burning heart within
Seemed to seethe and fuse my senses, till they ran on all sides darkening.
And scorched, weighed like melted metal round my feet that stood therein.
And that voice, I heard it —
pleading, for love's sake for wealth, position.
For the sake of liberal uses, and great actions to be done—
And she interrupted gently, '
Nay, my lord, the old tradition
Of your Normans, by some worthier hand than mine is, should be won.'
 —— — ———
LADV CERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

'Ah, that white hand,' he said quickly, and in his he either drew it —
Or attempted —
for with gravity and instance she replied
'Nay, indeed, my lord, this talk is vain, and we had best eschew it.
And pass on like friends, to other points less easy to decide.'
What he said again, I know not. It is likely that his trouble
Worked his pride up to the surface, for she answered in slow scorn
•And your lordship judges rightly. Whom I marry, shall be noble.
Ay, and wealthy. I shall never blush to think how he was born.'

There, I maddenedher words stung me

! Life swept through me into fever, !

And my soul sprang up astonished sprang full-statured in an hour; :

Know you what it is when anguish, with apocalyptic never.

To —
a Pythian height dilates you, and despair sublimes to power 1

From my brain the soul-wings budded waved a flame about my body. ! —

Whence conventions coiled to ashes I felt self-drawn out. as man. :

From amalgamate false natures and I saw the skies grow ruddy ;

With the deepening feet of angels, and I knew what spirits can.

I was mad —inspired—say either ! anguish worketh inspiration

Was a man or beast — perhaps so ; for the tiger roars when speared r
And Iwalked on, step by step, along the level of my passion
Oh my soul and passed the doorway to her face, and never feared.
!

— ——
He had left her, peradventure, when my footstep proved my coming
But for her she half arose, then sat grew scarlet and grew pale — :

Oh she trembled 'tis so always with a worldly man or woman

!

—
In the presence of true spirits what else can they do but quail ?

Oh, she fluttered like a tame bird, in among its forest brothers
Far too strong for it then drooping, bowed her faca upon her hands
!

And I spake out wildly, fiercely, brutal truths of her and others !

/, she planted in the desert, swathed her, windlikc, with my sands.

I plucked up her social fictions, bloody-rooted though leaf-verdant,

Trod them down with words of shaming, all the purple and the gold. —
All the landed stakes and lordships all that spirits pure and ardent
'
' —
Are cast out of love and honor because chancing not to hold.
* For myself I do not argue, said I, '
though I love you, madam ;

Butfor better souls that nearer to the height of yours have trod.
And this age shows to my
thinking, still more infidels to Adam,
Than directly, by profession, simple infidels to God.
'Yet, O God,' I said, '
O grave,' I said, O mother's heart and bosom.
'

With whom first and last are equal, saint and corpse and little child !

We are fools to your deductions, in these figments of heart-closing !

We are traitors to your causes, in these sympathies defiled !

'Learn more reverence, madam, not for rank or wealth that needs-no learning

But for Adam's seed, man

—
Thai comes quickly quick as sin does, ay, and culminates to sin
Trust me, 'tis a clay above your scorning.
!
;

With God's image stamped upon it, and God's kindling breath within.
 — ———————— —
220 LADY CERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.

' What right have

you, madam, gazing in your palace mirror daily.
Getting so by heart your beauty which all others must adore,
While you draw the golden ringlets down your fingers, to vow gaily
You will wed no man that's only good to God, and nothing more ? —
'Why, what right have you, made fair by that same God — the sweetest womnn
—
Of all women He has fashioned with your lovely spirit-face.
Which would seem too near to vanish if its smile were not so human.
And your voice of holy sweetness, turning common words to grace,
'
What right can you have, God's other works to scorn, despise, revile them
In the gross, as mere men, broadly —
not as noble men, forsooth,
As mere Parias of the outer world, forbidden to assoil them
In the hope of living, dying, near that sweetnees of your mouth ?

* Have you any answer, ma lam ? If my spirit were less earthly.

If its instrument were gifted with a better silver string,
Iwould kneel down where I stand, and say Behold me I am worthy — !

Of thy loving, for I love thee I am worthy as a king.

!

'
As it is
'J'liat /,
—
your ermined pride, I swear, shall feel this stain upon her
poor, weak, tost with passion, scorned by me and you again.
Love you. —
Madam dare to love you to — my
grief and your dishonor
To my endless desolation, and your impotent disdain !'

More mad words like these —

more madness friend, I need not write them fuller
!

And I my
hot soul dropping on the lines in showers of tears
hear
Oh, a woman
friend,
! a woman Why, a beast had scarce been duller
!

Than roar bestial loud complaints against the shining of the spheres.
But atlast there came a pause. I stood all vibrating with thunder
Which my soul had used. Ihe silence drew her face up like a call.
Could you guess what word she uttered ? She looked up, as if in wonder.
With tears beaded on her lashes, and said Bertram !' it was all. '

If she had cursed me —and —

she might have or if even, with queenly bearing
Which at needs is used by women, she had risen up and said,
* Sir, you are my guest, and therefore I have given you a full hearing

Now, beseech you, choose a name exacting somewhat less instead'

I had borne it !
— ' —
but that Bertram' why it lies there on the paper
A —
mere word, without her accent, and you cannot judge the weight
Of the calm which crushed my passion I seemed drowning in a vapor,
!

And her gentleness destroyed me whom her scorn made desolate.

So, struck backward and exhausted by that inward flow of passion

Which had rushed on, sparing nothing, into forms of abstract truth.
With a logic agonizing through unseemly demonstration.
And with youth's own anguish turning grimly gray the hairs of youth,
By the sense accursed and instant, that if even I spake wisely
I — —
spake basely using truth, if what I spake indeed was true
To avenge wrong on a woman her, who sat there weighing nicely
A full manhood's worth, found (juilty of such deeds as I could do 1
 — — —— !

LADV GERALDIXE'S COURTSHIP.

—
With such wrong and wo exhausted what 1 suffered and occasioned,
As a wild horse through a city runs with Hghtning in his eyes.
And then dashing at a church's cold and passive wall, impassioned.
Strikes the death into his burning brain, and blindly drops and dies

So I fell, struck down before her Do you blame me friend, for weakness'
!

'Twas my strength of passion slew me —

fell before her like a stone
!
;

Fast the dreadful world rolled from me, on its roaraig wheels of blackness!
When the light came I was lying in this chamber and alone. —
Oh, of course, she charged her lacqueys to bear out the sickly burden.
—
And to cast it from her scornful sight but not beyond \h& gate
She was too kind to be cruel, and too haughty not to pardon
—
Such a man as I 'twere something to be level to her hate.

But for 7ne —you now are conscious why, my friend, I write this letter.
How my life is read all backward, and the charm of life undone
I shall leave her house at —
dawn I would to-night, if I were better
And I charge my soul to hold my body strengthened for the sun.

When the sun has dyed the oriel, I depart with no last gazes.
No weak moanings — one word only left m writing for her hands.
Out of reach of all derision, and some unavailing praises.
To make front against this anguish in the far and foreign lands.

Blame me not, I would not squander abstemious

life in grief — I am :

I but nurse my spirit's falcon, that its wings may soar again :

There's no room for tears of weakness in the blind eyes of a Phemius :

—
Into work the poet kneads them, and he does not die till then.

CONCLUSION.

Bertram finished the last pages, while along the silence ever
Still in hot and heavy splashes, fell the tears on every leaf:
Having ended, he leans backward in his chair, with lips that quiver
From the deep unspoken, ay, and deep unwritten thoughts of grief.
Soh how still the lady standeth 'tis a dream
! ! a dream of mercies ! — !

'Twixt the purple lattice -curtains, how she standeth still and pale I

'Tis a vision, sure, of mercies, sent to soften his self-curses

Sent to sweep a patient quiet o'er the tossing of his wail.

'Eyes,' he said, now throbbing through me

'
are ye eyes that did undo
! me ?
Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian statue-stone !

Underneath that calm white forehead, are ye ever burning torrid

O'er the desolate sand-desert of my heart and life undone?"

With a murmurous stir uncertain, in the air, the purple curtain

Swelleth in and swelleth out around her motionless pale brows ;

While the gliding of the river sends a rippling noise for ever
Through the open casement whitened by the moonlight's slant repose.
 —— ——
233 LAD y GERALDINE 'S COUR TSHIF.
Said he —Vision of a lady stand there silent, stand there steady I
' !

Now I see it plainly, plainly now I cannot hope or doubt

;

—
There, the brows of mild repression there, the lips of silent passion,
Curved like an archer's bow to send the bitter arrows out.'

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling.

And approached him slowly, slowly, in a gliding measured pace ;

"With her two white hands extended, as if praying one offended.

And a look of supplication, gazing earnest in his face.
Said he — —
Wake me by no gesture, soimd of breath, or stir of vesture ;
'

Let the blessed apparition melt not yet to its divine !

—
No approaching hush no breathing or my heart must swoon to death in
! !

—
That too utter life thou bringest O thou dream of Geraldine !'

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling

But the tears ran over lightly from her eyes, and tenderly ;

' Dost thou, Bertram, truly love me

? Is no woman far above me
Found more worthy of thy poet-heart than such a one as I ?'

Said he —
I would dream so ever, like the flowing of that river.
'

Flowing ever in a shadow greenly onward to the sea ;

So, thou vision of all sweetness —

princely to a full completeness,
—
Would my heart and life flow onward—-deathward through this dream ofTHEKl'
Ever, evermore the while in slow silence she kept smiling.
While the silver tears ran faster down the bliushing of her cheeks ;

Then with both her hands enfolding both of his, she softly told him,
' Bertram, if I
say I love thee, 'tis the vision only speaks.'
. . .

Softened, quickened to adore her, on his knee he fell before her

—
And she whispered low in triumph ' It shall be as I have sworn !

—
Very rich he is in virtues, very noble noble, certes ; —
And I shall not blush in knowing that men call him lowly bom l'
 —

LORD WALTER'S WIFE.

•But why do you go ? said the lady, while both sate under the yew.
'

And her eyes were alive ui their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-bltt«.

• Because 1 fear you,' he answered ; because you are far too fair,
'

And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your gold-colored hair.'

'
Oh, that,' she said '
is no reason ! Such knots are quickly undone.
And too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun.'

•Yet, farewell so,' he answered the sun-stroke's fatal at times. ;

— '

I value your husband. Lord Walter, whose gallop rings still from the limes.'

' Oh, that,* she said, '

is no reason. You smell a rose through a fence :

If two should smell it, what matter ? who grumbles, and where's the pretenc* T
' But I,' he replied, '
have promised another, when love was free.
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me.'
'Why, that, she said, is no reason. Love's always free, I am told.
'

'
Will you vow to be safe from the headache on Tuesday, and think it will hold !

•But you,' he replied, '

have a daughter, a young who was laid little child,
In your lap to be pure ; so I leave you the angels would make me afraid.'
:

'
Oh, she said, ' is no reason. The angels keep out of the way
that,' ;

And Dora, the child, observes nothing, although you should please me and stay.'

At which he rose up in his anger, Why, now, you no longer are fair! — '

Why, now, you no longer are fatal, but ugly and hateful, I swear.'
At which she laughed out in her scorn,—' These men Oh, these men overnic«. !

Who are shocked if a color not virtuous, is frankly put on by a vice.'

Her eyes blazed upon him —

And you ! You bring us your vices so near
'

That we smell them You think in our presence a thought 'twould defame us
! to
hear !

• What reason had you, and what right, — I appeal to your soul from my life,
To find me too fair as a woman ? Why, sir, I am pure, and a wife.
'
up above you ? It burns you not. Dare you imply
Is the day-star too fair
1 brushed you more close than the star does, when Walter had set me as high ?

•
If a man finds a woman too fair, he means simply adapted too much
To uses unlawful and fatal. The praise shall I thank you for such ! — ?
 —
224 LORD WALTER'S WIFE.

•Too fair ! —not unless you misuse us 1 and surely if, once in a while.
You attain to it, straightway you call us no longer too fair, but too vile.

' A moment, — I pray your attention ! —

I have a poor word in my head
I must utter, though womanly custom would set it down better unsaid.

*You grew, sir, pale to impertinence, once when I showed you a ring.
You kissed my fan when I dropped it. No matter — I've broken the thing. !

*You did me the honor, perhaps, to be moved at my side now and then
—
In the senses avice, I have heard, which is common to beasts and some men.

'Love's a virtue for heroes ! —

as white as the snow on high hills.
And immortal as every great soul is that struggles, endures and fulfils.
'I love my Walter profoundly,
For the sake of
—
you, Maud, though you faltered a week.
what was it ? an eyebrow ? or, still less, a mole on a cheek
. . ?

' And since, when all's said,you're too noble to stoop to the frivolous cant
About crimes irresistible, virtues that swindle, betray and supplant,

' determined to prove to yourself that, whate'er you might dream or avow.
I
By illusion, you wanted precisely no more of me than you have now.
'There! Look me in the face ! —in the face. Understand, if you can.
That the eyes of such women as I am, are clean as the palm of a man.

'
Drop his hand, you insult him. Avoid us for fear we should cost you a scar
You take us for harlots, I tell you, and not for the women we are.
'
You wronged me but then I considered
: there's Walter And so at the
. . . !

end,
I vowed that he should not be mulcted, by me, in the hand of ;\ friend.

' Have I hurt you indeed ? We are quits then. Nay, friend of my Walter, be
mine !

Come, Dora, my darling, my angel, and help me to ask him to din«.'

 — —

TRANSLATIONS.
SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE.

Men could not part us with their worldly

jars,
I THOUGHT once how Theocritus had
sung Nor the seas change us, nor the tem-
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished- pests bend :

for years. Our hands would touch for all the

Who each one in a gracious hand mountain-bars :

appears And, heaven being rolled between us

To bear a gift for mortals, old or young :
at the end.
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, We should but vow the faster for the
I saw in gradual vision through my stars.
tears.
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy
years, Uniike are we, unlike, O princely
Those of my
own life, who by turns had Heart!
flung Unlike our uses and our desdnies.
A shadow across me. Straightway I Our ministering two angels look sur-
was 'ware. prise
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did On one another, as they strike athwart
move Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink
Behind me, and drew me backward by thee, art
the hair ; A guest for queens to social pageantries.
And a voice said in mastery while I With gazes from a hundred brighter
strove,
'
Guess
. .

now who holds thee ?' — ' Death !'

Than
eyes
tears even can make mine, to ply
Isaid. But there. thy part
The silver answer rang . .
'
Not Death, Of chief musician. What hast thou to
but Love.' do
With looking from the lattice-lights at
me,
But only three in all God's universe A poor, wandering singer?
tired, . .

singing through
Have heard this word thou hast said :

Himself, beside
The dark, and leaning up a cypress
tree ?
Thee speaking and me listening ! and
—on mine,
replied
The chrism is on thine head,
the dew,
One of us that was God . and laid ! .

death must dig the level where

. .

the curse
And
these agree.
So darkly on my eyelids as to amerce
RIy sight from seeing thee, that if I — IV.
had died.
The death weights placed there, would Thou hast thy calling to some palace
have signified floor.
Less absolute exclusion. ' Nay is Most gracious singer of high poems!
worse where
From God than from all others, O my The dancers will break footing from the
friend I
care
326 TRANSLATIONS.

Of watching up thy pregnant lips for

I
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart
more. in mine
And dost thou lift this house's latch too With pulses that beat double. What I
poor do
For hand of thine ? and canst thou think And what I dream include thee, as the
and bear wine
To let thy music drop here unaware Must taste of its own grapes. And when
In folds of golden fulness at my door ? I sue
Look up and see the casement broken in. God for myself. He hears that name of
The bats and awlets builders in the roof! thine.
My cricket chirps against thy mandolin. And sees within my eyes, the tears of
Hash call no echo up in further proof
! two.
Of desolation there's a voice withm
!

That weeps. as thou must sing.

.. alone .

aloof. The face of all the world is changed, I

think.
V. heard the footsteps of thy
Since first I
I my heavy heart up solemnly.
LIFT soul
As once Electra her sepulchral urn. Move still, oh, still, beside me ; as they
And looking in thine eyes, 1 overturn stole
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
What a great heap of grief lay hid in Of obvious death, where I who thought
me, to sink
And how the red wild sparkles dimly Was caught up into love and taught the
burn whole
Through the ashen greyness. If thy Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of
foot in scorn dole
Could tread them out to darkness God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink.
utterly. And praise its sweetness, sweet, with
It might be well perhaps. But if in- thee anear.
stead The name of country, heaven, are
Thou wait beside me for the wind to changed away
blow For where thou art or shalt be, there or
The grey dust up, . . . those laurels on here ;

thine head, And this . . this lute and song . . loved

O My beloved, will not shield thee so. yesterday,
That none of all the fires shall scorch (The singing angels know) are only
and shred dear.
The hair beneath. Stand farther off Because thy name moves right in what
then ! Go. they say.

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall What can I give thee back, O liberal
stand And princely giver, who has brought . .

Henceforward in- thy shadow. Never- the gold

more And purple of thine heart, unstained,
Alone upon the threshold of my door untold,
Of individual life, I shall command And laid them on the outside of the
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand wall
Serenely in the sunshine as before. For such as I to take or leave withal.
Without the sense of that which I for- In imexpected largesse ? I cold. Am
bore, . . Ungrateful, that for these most mani-
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest fold
land High gifts, I render nothing back at all ?
 —
TRANSLA TIONS. 227

Not so. Not cold ! —but very poor in- Who love God, God accepts while lov-
stead ! ing so.
Ask God who knows I for frequent tears And what l/eel, across the inferior fea-
have run tures
The colours from my life, and left so Of what I «;«, doth flash itself, and
dead show
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done How that great work of Love enhances
To give the same as pillow to thy head. Nature's.
Go farther Let it serve to trample on.
!

And therefore if to love can be desert,

Cam it be right to give what I can give ? I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale
To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears As these you see, and trembling knees
As salt as mine, and hear the sighing that fail
years To bear the burden of a heavy heart.
Re-sighing on my lips renunciative This weary minstrel-life that once was
Through those infrequent smiles which girt
fail to live
To climb Aornus, and can scarce avail
For all thy adjurations ? O my fears.
To pipe now 'gainst the valley nightin-
That this can scarce be right ! We are gale
not peers.
So to be lovers and I own and grieve
A melancholy music why advert! . .

;
To these things ? O Beloved, it is plain
That givers of such gifts as mine are,
I am not of thy worth nor for thy place :
must And yet because I love thee, I obtain
Be counted with the imgenerous. Out, From that same love this vindicating
alas !
grace.
I will not soil thy purple with my dust. To live on still in love and yet in vain, .
Nor breathe my
.

poison on thy Venice-

To bless thee yet renounce thee to thy
glass.
face.
Nor give thee any love . . which were
unjust.
Beloved, I only love thee ! let it pass.
LvDEED this very love which is my
boast.
And which, when rising up from breast
Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful in- to brow,
deed Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
And worthy of acceptatiou. Fire is To draw men's eyes and prove the inner
bright, cost, . .

Let temple burn, or flax ! An equal This love even, all my worth, to the
light uttermost,
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or I should not love withal, unless that thou
weed. Hadst set me an example, shown me
And love is fire : and when I say at how,
need When thine earnest eyes with mine
first
/ love thee . . mark ! . . / lff7/e thee / . . were crossed.
in thy sight And love called love. And thus, I can-
Istand transfigured, glorified aright. not speak
With conscience of the new rays that Of love even, as a good thing of my
proceed own.
Out of my face toward thine. There's Thy soul
hath snatched up mine all faint
nothing low and weak.
In love, when love the lowest : meanest And placed it by thee on a golden
creatures throne,
 — — —
228 TRANSLA rrONS.

And that I love, (O soul, we must be But love me for love's sake, that ever-
meek !) more
Is by thee only, whom I love alone. Thou may'st love on through love's eter-
nity.

XV.
And wilt thou have me fashion into
speech
Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I
The love I bear thee, finding words
wear
enough,
Too calm and sad a face in front of
thine
And hold the torch out, while the winds ;

For we two look two ways, and cannot

are rough.
shine
Between our faces to cast light on
each ?—
With the same sunlight on cur brow
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
and hair.
My hand to hold my spirit so far off On me thou lookest with no doubting
care.
From myself me that I should
. . . .

bring thee proof As on a bee shut in a crystalline,

In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
For sorrow hath shut me safe in love's
divine.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thv^ be- And to spread wing and fly in the outer
air
lief.-
Seeing that I stand unwon, however
Were most impossible failure, if I strove
wooed. To fail so. But I look on thee on . .

And rend the garment of my life in thee . .

brief,
Beholding, besides love, the end of love.
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude, Hearing oblivion beyond memory . . .

Lest one touch of this heart convey its As one who sits and gazes from above.
grief,
Over the rivers to the bitter sea.
XIV.
If thou must love me, let it be for And yet, because thou overcomest so,
nought Because thou art more noble and like a
Except for love's sake only. Do not king.
say Thou canst prevail against my fears and
• I love her for her smile . . her look . .
fling
her way Thy purple round me, till my heart
Of speaking gently, for a trick of , . shall grow
thought Too close against thine heart, henceforth
That falls in well with mine, and certes to know
brought How it shook when alone. Why, con-
A sense of pleasant ease on such a quering
day' May prove as lordly and complete a
For these things in themselves. Beloved, thing
may In lifting upward as in crushing low :

Be changed, or change for thee, —and And as a vanquished soldier yields his
love so wrought, sword
May be unwrought so. Neither love To one who lifts him from the bloody
me for earth,
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks Even so, Beloved, I at last record,
dry ; Here ends my strife. If thou invite me
A creature might forget to weep, who forth,
bore above abasement at the word.
I rise
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love Make thy love larger to enlarge my
thereby. worth.
 — ;

TRANSLA TIONS.

XVII.

My poet, thou canst touch on all the

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise ;

1 barter curl for curl upon that mart

notes
God set between His After and Before,
And from my poet's forehead to my
heart.
And strike up and strike off the general
roar
Receive this lock which outweighs ar-
gosies,
Of the rushing worlds, a melody that
floats
As purply black, as erst to Pindar's eyes
In a serene air purely. Antidotes
The dim purpureal tresses gloomed
Of medicated music, answermg for athwart
Mankind's forlornest uses, thou canst The nine white Muse-brows. For this
counterpart,
pour
From thence into their ears. God's will The bay-crown's shade. Beloved, I
surmise.
devotes
Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black
Thine to such ends and mine to wait on !

thine !
Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing
me breath,
How, Dearest, wilt thou have for
I tie the shadow safe from gliding back.
most use ?
A hope, to sing by gladly? . . or a fine
And lay the gift where nothing hin-
dereth.
Sad memory, with thy songs to inter-
fuse ?
Here on my heart as on thy brow, to
A shade, in which to sin:j ... of palm Nolack
natural heat till mine grows cold iu
or pine ?
death.
A grave, on which to rest from singing ?
. . Choose.
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago.
What time I sate alone here in the snow
I NEVER gave a lock of hair away And saw no footprint, heard the silence
To a man, Dearest, except this to thee. sink
Which now upon my fingers thought- No moment at thy voice, . . but link by
ftally link
I ring out to the full brown length and Went counting all my chains as if that so
say They never could fall off at any blow
'Take it.' My day of youth went yes- Struck by thy possible hand .... why,
terday ;
thus I drink
My hair no longer bounds to my foot's Of life's great cup of wonder. Won-
glee, derful,
Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree. Never to feel thee thrill the day or night
As girls do, any more. It only may With personal act or speech, nor ever —
Now shade on two pale cheeks, the cull
mark of tears. Some prescience of thee with the blos-
Taught drooping from the head that soms white
hangs aside Thou sawest growing Atheists are as
!

Through sorrow's trick. I thought the dull.

funeral .shears Who cannot guess God's presence out of
Would take this first; but Love is sight.
justified :

Take thou,
it . . finding pure, from all
those years. Say over again and yet once over again
The kiss my mother left here when she That thou dost love me. Though the
died. word repeated
 ! ! —
;; ! ! .

TRANSLA TTONS.

Should seem 'a cuckoo-song,' as thou I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read

dost treat it. Thy thought so in the letter. I am
Remember never to the hill or plain, thine
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo- But . so
. much to thee ? Can I pour
strain; thy wine
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green While my hands tremble? Then my
completed soul, instead
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower
By a doubtful spirit- voice, in that doubt's range I

pain Then, love me. Love look on me ! .

Cry speak once more

. . thou lovest
. . breathe on me
Who can fear As brighter ladies do not count it strange.
Too many stars, though each in heaven For love, to give up acres and degree,
shall roll- I yield the grave for thy sake, and
Too many flowers, though each shall exchange
crown the year? My near sweet view of Heaven, for
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me earth with thee
—toll
The silver iterance —
only minding,
!
XXIV.
Dear, Let the world's sharpness like a clasping
To love me also in silence, with thy soul. knife
Shut in upon itself and do no harm
XXII. In this close hand of Love, now soft and
When our two souls stand up erect and
warm
strong,
And let us hear no sound of human strife
After the click of the shutting. Life to
Face to face, drawing nigh and nigher.
Until the lengthening wings break into
life—
I lean upon thee. Dear, without alarm.
fire
At either curved point, What bitter — And feel as safe as guarded by a charm.
Against the stab of worldlings who if rife
wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should Are weak to injure. Very whitely still
not long
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots acces-
Be here contented ? Think. In mount- !

sible
ing higher.
The angels would press on us, and aspire
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not
fewer
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Growing straight, out of man's reach, on
Kather on earth. Beloved, where the — God
the hill.
only, who made us rich, can make
unfit
us poor,
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit XXV.
A place to stand and love in for a day, A HE.WY heart. Beloved, have I borne
With darkness and the death-hour From year to year until I saw thy face.
rounding it.
And sorrow after sorrow took the place
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn
XXIII. As the stringed pearls . each lifted in .

Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead, its turn

Would'st thou miss any life in losing By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes
mine. apace
And would the sun for thee more coldly Were changed to long despairs, . . till

shine. God's own grace

Because of grave-damps falling round Could scarcely lift above the world
my head ? forlorn
 — :: —
TRANSLA riONS. 231

My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid Looks backward on the tedious time he
me bring had
And let it drop adown thy calmly great In the upper life so I, with bosom- . .

Deep being Fast it sinketh, as a thing

! swell.
Which its own nature doth precipitate, Make witness here between the good
While thine doth close above it medi- and bad.
ating That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves
Betwixt the stars and the unaccom- as well.
plished fate.
XXVIII.
XXVI. My letters
all dead paper, mute and . .

I LIVED with visions for my company white !

Instead of men and women, years ago. And yet they seem alive and quiver-
And found them gentle mates, nor ing
thought to know Against my tremulous hands which
A sweeter music than they played to loose the string
me. And let them drop down on my knee to-
But soon their trailing purple was not night.
free This said, . . He wished to have me in
Of this world's dust, —their lutes did his sight
silent grow. Once, as a friend : this fixed a day in
And I myself grew faint and blind be- spring
low To come and touch my hand ... a sim-
Their vanishing eyes. Then thou didst ple thing.
come . . to be. Yet I wept for it !
— this, . . . the paper's
Beloved, what they seemed. Their light . .

shining fronts. Said, Dear, I love thee : and I sank and

Their songs, their splendours (better, . . quailed
yet the same. As if God's future thundered on my
As water-river hallowed into fonts . . past
Met in thee, and from out thee over-
)

This said la/u thine —and so its ink has

came paled
My soul with satisfaction of all wants With lying at my heart that beat too
Because God's gifts put man's best fast
dreams to shame. And this . . . O Love, thy words have
ill availed.
xxvii. If, what this said, I dared repeat at last 1

My own Beloved, who hast lifted me xxix.

From this drear flat of earth where I was
thrown. ITHINK of thee my thoughts do twine ! —
And in betwixt the languid ringlets, and bud
blown About thee, as wild vines about a tree.
A life-breath,till the forehead hopefully Put out broad leaves, and soon there's
Shines out again, as all the angels see. nought to see
Before thy saving kiss My own, my ! Except the straggling green which hides
own. the wood.
Who earnest to me when the world was Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
gone. I will not have my thoughts instead of
And I who only looked for God, found thee
thee ! Who art dearer, better ! Rather in-
I find thee : I am safe, and strong, and stantly
glad. Renew thy presence ! As a strong tree
As one who stands in dewless asphodel should
 ! —
TRANSLA TIONS.

Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all Thou dovelike help ! and, when ray
bare, fears would rise.
And let these bands of greenery which With thy broad heart serenely interpose !

insphere thee. Brood down with thy divine sufficien-

Drop heavily down, burst, shattered, . . cies
everywhere ! These thoughts which tremble when
Because, in this deep joy tosee and hear bereft of those.
thee Like callow birds left desert to the skios.
And breathe within thy shadow a new
XXXII.
air,
I do not think of thee — I am too near The first time that the sun rose on thine
thee. oath
To love me, I looked forward to the
moon
I SEE thy image through my tears to-
To slacken all those bonds which seemed
night. too soon
And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. And quickly tied to make a lasting
troth.
How
Refer the cause ? —Beloved, is it thou Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may
Who quickly loathe
Or I ? makes me sad ? The ;

acolyte And, looking on myself, I seemed not

Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite. one
May so fall flat with pale insensate brow. For such man's love more like an out ! —
On the altar-stair. I hear thy voice of tune
and vow Worn viol, a good singer would be
Perplexed, uncertain, since thou'rt out wroth
of sight. To spoil his song with, and which,

As he, in liis swooning ears, the choir's

snatched in haste.
amen Is laid down at the first ill-sounding
note.
Beloved, dost thou love ? or did I see all
I did not wrong myself so, but I placed
The glory as I dreamed, and fainted
when A wrong on thee. For perfect strains
Too vehement light dilated my ideal may float

For my soul's eyes? Will that light 'Neath master-hands, from instruments
defaced,
eome again.
As now these tears come . . . falling hot And great souls, at one stroke, may do
and real ?
and doat.
XXXIII.
XXXI. Yes, call me by my pet-name I let me
Thou comest all is said without a
1 hear
word. The name I used to run at, when a child.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do From innocent play, and leave the cow-
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble slips piled,
through To glance up in some face that proved
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred me dear
Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I With the look of its eyes. I miss the
erred clear
In that last doubt and yet I cannot rue
! Fond voices, which, being drawn and
The sin most, but the occasion that . . . reconciled
we two Into the music of Heaven's undefiled.
Should for a moment stand unminlstered Call me no longer. Silence on the bier.
By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near While / call God . . call God !—So let
siud close. thy mouth
 —— —
TRANSLATIONS. ~«33

Be heir to those who are now exani- For grief indeed i^ love and grief be-
mate : side.
Gather the north flowers to complete Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to
the south, love
And catch the early love up in the late ! Yet love me wilt thou? — thine Open
Yes, call me by that name, and I, in — heart wide.
truth. And fold within, the wet wings of thy
With the same heart, will answer and dove.
not wait.
XXXVI.
XXXIV. When we first met and lovfed, I did not
With the same heart, I said, I'll answer build
thee Upon the event with marble. Could it
As those, when thou shall call me by mean
my name To last, a love set pendulous between
Lo, the vain promise ! Is the same, the Sorrow and sorrow 1 Nay, I rather
same, thrilled.
Perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy ? Distrusting every light that seemed to
When called before, I told how hastily gild
Idropped my flowers, or brake off from The onward path, and feared to over-
a game. lean
To run and answer with the smile that A finger even. And though I have
came grown serene
At play last moment, and went on with And strong since then, I think that God
me has willed
Through my obedience. When I answer A still renewable fear love, . . O O
now, troth . .

I drop a grave thought ; —break from Lest these enclasped hands should never
solitude : hold.
Yet still my heart goes to thee . . . pon- This mutual kiss drop down between us
der how . . both
Not as to a single good but all my good ! As an unowned thing, once the lips being
Lay thy hand on it, best one, and allow cold.
That no child's foot could run fast as And Love be false ! if he, to keep one
this blood. oath,
Must lose one joy by his life's star fore-
XXXV. told.
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
XXXVII.
And be all to me ? Shall I never miss
Home-talk and blessing, and the com- Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should
mon kiss make
That comes to each in turn, nor count it Of all that strong divineness which I
strange. know
When I look up to drop on a new range For thine arid thee, an image only so
Of walls and floors another home . .
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and
than this ? break.
Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me It is that distant years which did not

which is take
Filled by dead eyes too tender to know Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow.
change ? Have forced my swimming brain to un-
That's hardest If to conquer love, has
!
dergo
tried. Their doubt and dread, and blindly to
more ... as all forsake
To conquer grief tries
and
things prove, Thy purity of likeness, distort
 !

234 TRANSLA TIONS.

The patient angel waiting for his place

Thy worthiest love to a worthless coun-
In the new Heavens because nor sin :

terfeit. .

nor woe.
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port, nor death's neigh-
His guardian sea-god to conimemorate.
Nor God's infliction,
borhood.
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills which others viewing, turn to
a-snort.
Nor all

withm the temple- go,

And vibrant tall,
Nor all
. .

which makes me tired of all,

gate.
self-viewed, . .

Nothing repels thee, . . Dearest, teach

XXXVIII.
only
me so
First time he kissed me. he but To pour out gratitude, as thou dost,
Icisscd good !

fingers of this hand wherewith

I
The
write, ,

And ever since it grew more clean and Oh. yes ! they love through all this
white, ... •
v
quick with
• ,
world of ours
Slow to world-greetings . .

I will not gainsay love, called love for-

its '
Oh, list,' .

When the angels speak. A ring ol sooth.

early my
I have heard love talked w.
amethyst
I could not wear here plainer
.

to my youth.
And since, not so long back but that the
sight,
The second passed
,
flowers
Than that first kiss.
Then gathered, smell still. Alussul-
in height ^ , i
mans and Giaours
and sought the forehead, and
. , i

The first,
Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no
half missed, ^^ .

Half falling on the

,
hair.
.

O ,
beyond ruth
Polyphemes white
For any weeping.
meed !
^ ,
.
, , ,
tooth
That was the chrism of love with love
s
Slips on the nut. if after frequent show-
own crown. ers
pre-
With sanctifying sweetness, did The shell is oversmooth ; and not so
down much
The*third upon my lips was folded Will turn the thing called love, aside to
since when.
In perfect, purple state !

hate.
indeed, ht t But thou art not
.
, .
My i-ove, Or else to oblivion.
I have been proud and said. such
my own.'
A lover, my Beloved ! thou canst wait
Through sorrow and sickness, to bring
XXXIX.
souls to touch,
Because thou hast the power and own'st And think it soon when others cry ' Too
the grace
this mask
.,,.,,• i late.'
To look through and behind
of me, , , ,
thus
(Against which years have beat who have loved me in their
blanchingly I THANK all

With their rains

,. , ,
and beheld
, , ,
my soul s hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep
!)

true face, r it
dreary witness of iile
. >
s thanks to all
The dim and Who paused a little near the prison- wall.
To hear my music in its louder parts,
Becaus^e^thou hast the faith and
love to
Ere they went onward, each one to the
soul's distracting
mart's
Through that same ,

beyond all.
Or temple's occupations,
lethargy,
 ;

TRANSLATIONS. S3S

But thou, who in my voice's sink and And which on warm and cold days I
fall, withdrew
"When the sob took thy divinest Art's
it, From my heart's ground. Indeed, those
Own instrument didst drop down at thy beds and bowers
foot. Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue.
To hearken what I said between my And wait thy weeding yet here's
:

tears, . . eglantine.
Instruct me how to thank thee ! — Oh, to Here's ivy !— take them, as I used to do
shoot Thy flowers, and keep them where they
My soul's full meaning into future years. shall not pine ;
That they should lend it utterance, and Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours
salute true.
Love that endures 1 with Life that dis- And tell thy soul, their roots are left in
appears ! mine.

Myfuture will not copyfair my past.

How do I love thee? Let me count I wrote that once and thinking at my
;

the ways. side

I love thee to the depth and breadth My ministering life-angel justified
and height The word by his appealing look upcast
My soul can reach, when feeling out of To the white throne of God, I turned at
sight last.
For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace. And there, instead, saw ikee ; not un-
I love thee to the level of everyday's allied
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. To angels in thy soul ! Ihen I, long
I love thee freely, as men strive for tried
Right By natural received the comfort fast.
ills,

I love thee purelj', as they turn from While budding at thy sight, my pilgrim's
Praise
. ; staff
I love thee with the passion put to use Gave out green leaves with morning
In my
old griefs, and with my child- dews impearled.
hood's faith ;
—I seek no copy now of life's first half!
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose Leave here the pages with long musing
With my lost saints,— I love thee with curled.
the breath. And writeme new my future's epigraph.
Smiles, tears, of all my life and, if !
— New angel mine, unhoped for in the
God choose, world 1

I shall but love thee better after death.

Beloved, thou hast brought me many PARAPHRASES ON HEINE.

flowers
Plucked in the garden, all the summer EOME, 1860.
through
And winter, and it seemed as if they
grew
In this close room, nor missed the sun
and showers. Out of my own great woe
So, in the like name of that love of ours. I make my little songs.
Take back these thoughts which here Which rustle their feathers in throngs.
imfolded too. And beat on her heart even so.
 ; — — — —— !

236 TRANSLA TIONS.

We made her a bow and curtsey.

They found their way, for their
Ye come again and complain.
Complain, and are not fain
To say what they saw in her heart.
Each with a compliment in it,
part.
After her health we asked,
Our care and regard to evince
(We have made the very same speeches
To many an old cat since).

We also sate and wisely

Discoursed, as old folks do.
Art thou indeed so adverse ? Complaining how all went better
Art thou so changed indeed ? In those good times we knew ,

Against the woman who wrongs me

I cry to the world in my need.

How love and truth and believing

Had left the world to itself.
O recreant lips unthankful. And how so dear was the coffee.
How could ye speak evil, say. And how so rare was the pelf.
Of the man who so well has kissed you
On many a fortunate day ?
The children's games are over.
The rest is over with youth
The world, the good games, the good
times.
The belief, and the love, and the truth.
III.

My child, we were two children.

Small, merry hy childhood's law ;

We used to crawl to the hen-house.

And hide ourselves in the straw.
IV.
We crowed like cocks, and whenever
The passers near us drew
Cock-a-doodle they thought
! Thou lovest me not, thou lovest not me
'Twas a real cock that crew. 'Tis scarcely worth a sigh :

Let me look in thy face, and no king in

his place
The boxes about our courtyard Is a gladder man than I.

We carpeted to our mind,

And lived there both together
Kept house in a noble kind. Thou hatest me well, thou hatest me
well—
Thy littlered mouth has told :

The neighbor's old cat often Let it reach me a kiss, and, however it i^
Came to pay us a visit My child, I am well consoled.
 ' ——

TRANSLATIONS.

These Translations wers only Intended,

V. many years ago, to accompany and explain
certain Engravings after ancient Gems, in tha
I. projected work of a friend, by wliose kindness
they are now recovered but as two of tha
My own sweet Love, if thou in the
;

original series (tlie " Adonis:" of Bion, and

grave, " Song to tlie Rose," from Achilles Tatiiis) had
The darksome grave, wilt be. already been included in these poems, it is pre-
Then will I go down by the side, and sumed that the remainder may not improperly
appear. A single recent version is added.
crave
Love-room for thee and me.

I kiss and caress and press thee wild. PARAPHRASE ON THEOCRI-

Thou still, thou cold, thou white !

I wail, I tremble, and weeping mild. TUS.

Turn to a corpse at the right.
THE CYCLOPS.

(Idyl XL)
The Dead stand up, the midnight calls And so an easier life our Cyclops drew.
They dance in airy swarms The ancient Polyphemus, who in
We two keep still where the grave- youth
shade falls. Loved Galatea, while the manhood grew
And I lie on in thine arms. Adown his cheeks and darkened round
his mouth.
No jot he cared for apples, olives, roses ;

Love made him mad the whole :

The Dead stand up, the Judgment-day world was neglected.

Bids such to weal or woe The very sheep went backward to their
But nought shall trouble us where we closes
stay From out the fair green pastures, self-
Embraced and embracing below. directed.
And singing Galatea, thus, he wore
The sunrise down along the weedy
shore.
And pined alone, and felt the cruel
wound
Beneath his heart, which Cypris's
arrow bore,
VL With a deep pang but, so, the cure was
;

found ;

And sitting on a lofty rock he cast

The years they come and ^o. His eyes upon the sea, and sang at
The races drop in the grave, last ;—
Yet never the love doth so. ' O whitest Galatea, can it be
Which in my heart I have. That thou shouldst spurn me off vifho
love thee so ?
More white than curds, my girl, thou
art to see.
Could see thee but once, one day
I More meek than lambs, more full of
And sink down so on my knee, leaping glee
And die in thy sight while 1 say, Than kids,and brighter than tho
' Lady,
I love but thee !
early glow
 — — ! ! ! ! —

338 TRANSLATIONS.

On grapes that swell to ripen, sour like — And all in fawn ; and four tame
thee! whelps of bears.
Thou comest to me with the fragrant Come to me, Sweet thou shalt have !

sleep. all of those

And with the fragrant sleep thou goest In change for love ! 1 will not halve
from me ; the shares.
Thou fliest . . fliest, as a frightened sheep Leave the blue sea, with pure white
Flies the gray wolf!
overcome me.
— yet Love did
To
arms extended
the dry ^ore ; and in my cave's
So long ;
— I loved thee, maiden, first rec e.ss.
of all Thou shalt be gladder for the noonlight
When down the hills (my mother fast ended,
beside thee) For here be laurels, spiral cypresses,
I saw thee stray to pluck the summer- Dark ivy, and a vine whose leaves
fall enfold
Of hyacinth bells, and went myself to Most luscious grapes ; and here is water
guide thee : cold.
And since my eyes have seen thee, they The wooded iEtna pours down
can leave thee through the trees
No more, from that day's light But ! From the white snows, which gods —
thou by Zeus,
. . were scarce too bold
Thou wilt not care for that to let it To drink in turn with nectar. Who
grieve thee with these
I know thee, fair one, why thou Would choose the salt wave of the
springest loose lukewarm seas ?
From my arm round thee. "Why? I Nay, look on me ? If I am hairy and
tellDear thee. rough,
One shaggy eyebrow draws its smudg- I have an oak's heart in me ; there's a
ing road fire
Straight through my ample front, from In these gray ashes which burns hot
ear to ear, enough ;

One eye rolls underneath ; and yawn- And when I burn for thee, I grudge
ing, broad the pyre
Flat nostrils feel the bulging lips too No fuel not
. . my soul, nor this one
near. eye,—
Yet . . ho, ho ! — — /, whatever I ap- Most precious thing I have, because
pear, thereby
Do feed a thousand oxen When I ! I see thee. Fairest Out, alas I wish ! I

have done, My mother had borne me finned like a

1 milk the cows, and drink the milk fish.
that's best That might plunge down in the ocean
I
lack no cheese, while summer keeps
I near thee.
the sun ;
And kiss thy glittering hand between
And after, in the cold, it's ready prest the weeds,
And then, I know to sing, as there is If still thy face were turned and I ;

none would bear thee

Of all the Cyclops can, . . a song of Each lily white, and poppy fair that
thee. bleeds
Sweet apple of my soul, on love's fair Its red heart down its leaves !
— one gift,
tree, for hours
And of myself who love thee till . . Of summer, one, for winter
. . ; since,
the West to cheer thee,
Forgets the light, and all but I have rest. I could not bring at once all kinds of
I feed for thee, besides, eleven fair does, flowers.
 — — ' — —
—; —

TRANSLATIONS. 239

Even now, girl, now, I fain would learn While thus the Cyclops love and
to swim. lambs did fold.
If stranger in a ship sailed nigh, I Ease came with song, he could not buy
wis, with gold.
That I may know how sweet a thing
it is

To live down with you in the Deep and

Dim !

Come up, O Galatea, from the ocean. PARAPHRASES ON APULEIUS.

And having come, forget again to go !

As I, who sing out here my heart's PSYCHE GAZING ON CUPID.

emotion,
Could sit forever. Come up from [Meta77iorJ>h., Lib. IV.)
below !

Come, keep my flocks beside me, milk Then Psyche, weak in body and soul,
my kine, put on
Come, press my cheese, distrain my The cruelty of Fate, in place of
whey and curd ! strength :

Ah, mother she alone ! . . that mother She raised the lamp to see what should
of mine . . be done.
Did wrong me sore I I blame her I And seized the steel, and was a man
Not a word at length
Of kindly intercession did she address In courage, though a woman Yes, but !

Thine ear with for my sake and ne'er- ; when

theless The light fell on the bed whereby .she
She saw me wasting, wasting, day by stood
day! To view the 'beast' that lay there,
Both head and feet were aching, I certes, then.
will say. She saw the gentlest, sweetest beast
All sick for grief, as I myself was sick ! in wood
O
Cyclops, Cyclops, whither hast thou Even Cupid's self, the beauteous god !

sent more beauteous

Thy soul on fluttering wings ? If thou For that sweet sleep across his eyelids
wert bent dim !

On turning bowls, or pulling green and The light, the lady carried as she
thick viewed.
The sprouts to give thy lambkins, thou — Did blush for pleasure as it lighted
wouldst make thee him.
A wiser Cyclops than for what we The dagger trembled from its aim un-
take thee. duteous
Milk dry the present "Why pursue too ! And she oh, she
. . — amazed and soul
quick distraught.
That future which is fugitive aright ? And fainting in her whiteness like a
Thy Galatea thou shalt haply find, veil.
Or else a maiden fairer and more Sliddown upon her knees, and, shud-
kind dering thought
— —
;

For many girls do call me through the To hide though in her heart the dag-
night. ger pale !

And, as they call, do laugh out silver- She would have done it, but her hands
did fail
/, too, am something in the world, I To hold the guilty steel, they shiv-
see 1
ered so,
And feeble, exhausted, unawares she
took
 — : —
240 TRANSLA TIONS.

To gazing on the god, — till, look by And made her blood some dewdrops
look small distil,
Her eyes with larger life did fill and And learnt to love Love, of her own
glow. goodwill.
She saw his golden head alight with
curls,
She might have guessed their bright-
r.SVCHE WAFTED BY ZEPHVRUS.
ness in the darlc
By that ambrosial smell of heavenly [Metamorph., Lib. IV.)
mark !

She saw the milky brow, more pure While Psyche wept upon the rock for-
than pearls. saken.
The purple of the cheeks, divinely Alone, despairing, dreading, ^grad- —
sundered ually
By the globed ringlets, as they glided By Zephyrus she was en wrapt and ta-
ken
Some
free,
back, some forwards, — all so ra- Still trembling, —like the lilies planted
diantly.
high.—
That, as she watched them there, she Through all her fair white limbs. Her
never wondered vesture spread.
To see the lamplight, where it touched Her very bosom eddying with sur-
prise,
them, tremble
On
;

the god's shoulders, too, she marked He drew her slowly from the mountain-
his wings
head.
Shine faintly at the edges and resem- And bore her down the valleys with
ble
wet eyes.
A flower that's near to blow. The poet And laid her in the lap of a green dell
sings As soft with grass and flowers as any
nest.
And lover sighs, that Love is fugi-
tive With trees beside her, and a limpid
;
well
And certes, though these pinions lay re-
posing. Yet Love was not far off from all that
The featherson them seemed to stir Rest.
and live
As if by instinct closing and imclosing. VVSCHE AND PAN.
Meantime the god's fair body slum-
bered deep. [Metamorph., Lib. V.)
All worthy of Venus, in his shining
sleep ; The gentle River, in her Cupid's honor.
While at the bed's foot lay the quiv- Because he used to warm the very
er, bow. wave.
And darts, his —
arms of godhead. Did ripple aside, instead of closing on
Psyche gazed her.
With eyes that drank the wonders in, And cast up Psyche, with a refluence
—said — ' Lo, brave.
Be these my husband's arms ? and '
— Upon the flowery bank, — all sad and
straightway raised sinning.
An arrow from the quiver-case, and Then Pan, the rural god, by chance wa^
tried leaning
Its point against her finger, —trembling Along the brow of the waters as they
till wound.
She pushed it in too deeply (foolish Kissing the reed-nymph till she sank
bride !) to the ground,
 — — — — —— — — :

TRANSLATIONS.

And teaching, without knowledge of the PSYCHE PROPITIATING CERES.

meaning,
To run her voice in music after his {Metamorph., Lib. VI.)
Down many a shifting note ;
(the goats
Then mother Ceres from afar beheld
around. her.
In wandering pasture and most leap- While Psyche touched, with reverent
ing bliss.
fingers meek.
Drawn on to crop the river's flowery The temple's scythes and with a cry ;

hair.)
compelled her
And as the hoary god beheld her there, O
wretched Psyche, Venus roams to
'

The poor, worn, fainting Psyche !

seek
knowing all
Thy wandering footsteps round the
The grief she suffered, he did gently weary earth.
call
Anxious and maddened, and adjures
Her name, and sofdy comfort her des-
thee forth
pair :
To accept the imputed pang, and let
her wreak
Full vengeance with full force of deity
•
O wise, fair lady, I am rough and
my
!

rude. Yet thoii, forsooth, art in temple

And yet experienced through my weary here.
age! Touching my scythes, assuming my
And if I read aright, as soothsayer degree.
should. Anddaring to have thoughts that arc
!'
Thy heavy pilgrim-
faltering steps of not fear
age. — But Psyche clung to her feet, and as
Thy paleness, deep as the snow we they moved
cannot see Rained tears along their track, tear
The roses through, thy sighs of quick — dropped on tear.
And drew the dust on in her trailing
returning.
Thine eyes that seem, themselves, two locks.
souls in mourning, And still, with passionate prayer, the

Thou lovest, girl, too well, and bitter- charge disproved :

ly !
'
Now, by thy right hand's gathering
But hear me rush no more to a head- from the shocks
long fall
:

:
—
Of golden corn, and by thy gladsome
rites
Seek no more deaths leave wail, lay
sorrow down.
!

Of harvest, —
and thy consecrated sights
And pray the sovran god ; and use Shut safe and mute in chests, and by —
withal the course
Such prayer as best may suit a tender Of thy slave-dragons, —and the driving
youth. force
Well-pleased to bend to flatteries from Of ploughs along Sicilian glebes pro-
mouth, found,
And feel them stir the myrtle of his By thy swift chariot, —by thy steadfast
erown.' ground,
By all thosenuptial torches that departed
With thy lost daughter, and by those —
—So spake the shepherd -god ; and that shone
answer none Back with her, when she came again
Gave Psyche in return but silently : glad-hearted,
She did him homage with a bended And by all other mysteries which are
knee. done
And took the onward path. In silence at Eleusis, — I beseech thee^
 — —
»4* translations:

O Ceres, take some pity, and abstain Most holy, even to Jove? that as, on
From giving to my soul extremer pain earth.
Who am the wretched Psyche Let ! Men swear by gods, and by the thun-
me teach thee der's worth.
A httle mercy, and have thy leave to Even so the heavenly gods do utter forth
spond Their oaths by Styx's flowing majesty ?
A i^^ days only in thy garnered corn. And yet, one little urnful, I agree
Until that wrathful goddess, at the To grant thy need !' Whereat, all
end. hastily.
Shall feel her hate grow mild, the longer He takes it, fills it from the willing wave.
bourne, And bears it in his beak, incarnadined
Or till, alas —
this faintness at my breast
! By the last Titan-prey he screamed to
Pass from me, and my spirit apprehend have ;

From life-long woe a breath-time hour And, striking calmly out, against the
of rest!' wind.
—But Ceres answered, 'I am moved Vast wings on each side, —there, where
indeed Psyche stands.
By prayers so moist with tears.and He drops the urn down in her lifted
would defend hands.
The poor beseecher from more utter
need : PSYCHE AND CERBERUS.
But where old oaths, anterior ties,
{miMxm-pli., Lib. VI.)
commend,
I cannot fail to a sister, lie to a friend. A MIGHTY Dog with three colossal necks.
As Venus is to vie. Depart with speed !'
And heads in grand proportion ; vast
as fear.
With jaws that bark the thunder out
PSYCHE AND THE EAGLE. that breaks
In most innocuous dread for ghosts
[Metamnrph., Lib. VI.) anear.
But sovran Jove's rapacious bird, the Who are safe in death from sorrow he :

regal reclines
High percher on the lightning, the great Across the threshold of queen Proser-
eagle pine's
Drove down with rushing wings and,
Dark-sweeping halls, and, there, for
—thinking how. ;
Pluto's spouse.
Doth guard the entrance of the empty
By Cupid's help, he bore from Ida's brow
A cup-boy for his master, he inclined — When
house.
Psyche threw the cake to him,
To yield, in just return, an influence
kind once amain
;

The god being honored in his lady's woe.

He howled up wildly from his hunger-
pain.
And thus the bird wheeled downward
from the track, And was still, after.

Gods follow gods in, to the level low

Of that poor face of Psyche left in wrack. PSYCHE AND PROSERPINE.
—' Now fie, thou simple girl !' the Bird
{mtamorpli., Lib. VI.)
began ;

* For if thou think to steal and

carry back Then Psyche entered in to Proserpine
A drop of holiest stream that ever ran. In the dark house, and straightway did
No simpler thought, methinks, were decline
found in man. With meek denial the luxurious seat.
What knowest thou not these Stygian
! The liberal board for welcome stran-
waters be gers spread,
 — — —

TKANSLA TTONS. 243

But sate down lowly at the dark queen's With deathless uses, and be glad the
feet, while !

And told her talc, and brake her oaten No more shall Cupid leave thy lovely
bread. side ;

And when she had given the pyx \\\ Thy marriage-joy begins for never-
humble duty. ending.'
And told how Venus did entreat the While yet he spake, — the nuptial feast
queen supplied,
To up with only one day's beauty
fill it The bridegroom on the festive couch
She used in Hades, star-bright and was bending

To
serene.
beautify the Cyprian, who had been
O'er Psyche in his bosom
same
—Jove, the

All spoilt with grief in nursing her On Juno, and the other deities.
sick boy, Alike ranged round. The rural cup-boy
Then Proserpine, in malice and in joy. came
Smiled in the shade, and took the pyx, And poured Jove's nectar out with
and put shining eyes.
A secret in it ; and so, filled and shut. While Bacchus, for the others, did as
Gave it again to Pyschc. Could she much.
tell And Vulcan spread the meal ; and all
It held no beauty, but a dream of hell ? the Hours,
Madeall things purple with a sprinkle

PSYCHE AND VENU .

of flowers.
Or roses chiefly, not to say the touch
{MetamorpJi., Lib. VI.) Of their sweet fingers ; and the
Graces glided
And Psyche brought to Venus what was Their balm around, and the Muses,
sent through the air
By Pluto's spouse ; the paler, that she Struck out clear voices, which were
went still divided
So low to seek it, down the dark descent. By that divinest song Apollo there
Intoned to his lute while Aphrodite;

MERCURY CARRIES PSYCHE TO OLYMPUS. fair

Did float her beauty along the tune, and
[Meiamorph., Lib. VI.) play
Then Jove commanded the god Mer- The notes right with her feet. And
cury day
thus, the
To float up Psyche from the earth. And Through every perfect mood of joy was
she carried,
Sprang at the first word, as the fountain The Muses sang their chorus ; Satyrus
springs, Did blow his pipes ; Pan touched his
And shot up bright and rustling through reed ; —and thus
his wings. At last were Cupid and Psyche married.

MARRIAGE OF PSYCHE AND CUPID.

{Metamorph., Lib. VI.) PARAPHRASES ON NONNUS.

And Jove's right-hand approached the
HOW DACCHUS FINDS ARIADNE SLEEPING.
ambrosial bowl [Dionysiaca, Lib. XLVII.)
To Pysche's lips, that scarce dared
yet to smile, When Bacchus first beheld the deso-
Drink, my daughter, and acquaint
O late
thy soul And sleeping Ariadne, wonder straight
 : ! — ;

244 TRANSLA TIONS.

Was mixed with love in his great golden Around, around her, and no Theseus
eyes; there !

He turned to his Bacchantes in surprise.

— Her voice went moaning over shore and
And said with guarded voice, Hush ' ! sea.
strike no more Beside the halcyon's cry ; she called
Your brazen cymbals keep those ; voices her love ;

still She named her hero, and raged mad-

Of voice and pipe ; and since ye stand deningly
before Against the brine of waters ; and
Queen Cypns, let her slumber as she above.
will ! Sought the ship's track and cursed the
And yet the cestus is not here in proof. hours she slept
A Grace, perhaps, whom sleep has sto- And still the chiefest execration swept
len aloof Against queen Paphia, mother of the
In which case, as morning shines in ocean ;

view. And cursed and prayed by times in her

Wake —yet in Hush
this Aglaia
Would veil a Grace so
Naxos, who
!

And ? I
emotion
The winds all round.
if that she
Were Hebe, which of all the gods can
be Her grief did make her glorious ; her
The pourer-out of wine ? or if we think despair
She's like the shining moon by ocean's Adorned her with its weight. Poor
brink. wailing child !

The guide of herds, —why, could she She looked like Venus when the goddess
sleep without smiled
Endym ion's breath on her cheek ? or if At liberty of godship, debonair ;

I doubt Poor Ariadne and her eyelids fair

1

Of silver- footed Thetis, used to tread Hid looks beneath them lent her by
—
These shores, even she (in reverence Persuas ion
be it said) And every Grace, with tears of Love's
Has no such rosy beauty to dress deep own passion.
With the blue waves. The Loxian She wept long then she spake ; :
—
goddess might Sweet sleep did come
'

Repose so from her hunting-toll aright While sweetest Theseus went. O, glad
Beside the sea, since toil gives birth to and dumb,
sleep. I wish he had left me still for in my !

But who would find her with her tunic sleep

loose. I saw his Athens, and did gladly keep
Thus ? Stand off, Thracian 1 stand off! My new bride-state within Theseus' my
Do not leap. hall;
Not this way ! Leave that piping, since And heard the pomp of Hymen, and
I choose, the call
O dearest Pan, and let Athene rest Of Ariadne,
' Ariadne,' sung
And yet if she be Pallas . . truly In choral joy and there, with joy
; I
guessed. . hung
Her lance is — where ? her helm and segis Spring-blossoms round lo>«e's altar ! —ay,
—where ?' and wore
— As Bacchus closed, the miserable A wreath myself ; and felt him ever-
Fair more.
Awoke at last, sprang upward from the Oh, evermore beside me, with his
s^nds. mighty
And gazing wild on that wild throng Grave head bowed down in prayer t*
that stands Aphrodite I
 — ) — — ! ——

TRANSLA TIONS. 345

Why, what sweet, sweet dream He Had lingered near him : not to speak
went with it. the truth
And left me here unwedded where I Too definitely out names be known
till
sit! Like Paphia's — —
Love's and Ariadne's
Persuasion help me The dark night ! own.
did make me Thou wilt not say that Athens can com-
A
brideship, the fair morning takes pare
away ; With i^ther, nor that Minos rules like
My Love had left me when the Hour did Zeus,
wake me ; Nor yet that Gnossus has such golden
And while I dreamed of marriage, as air
Isay, As high Olympus. Ha ! for noble use
And blest it well, my blessed Theseus We came to Naxos ! Love has well in-
left me : tended
And thus the sleep, 1 loved so, has be- To change thy bridegroom ! Happy
reft me. thou, defended
Speak to me, rocks, and tell my grief From entering in thy Theseus' earthly
to-day. hall.
Who stole my love of Athens ?'.... That thou mayst hear the laughters rise
and fall
Instead, where Bacchas rules Or wilt !
HOW BACCHUS COMFORTS ARIADNE. thou choose
{Dionysiaca., Lib. X LVI L A still-surpassing glory ?— take all, it
A heavenly house, Kronion's self for
Then Bacchus' subtle speech her sorrow kin,
crossed : A place where Cassiopea sits within
• O maiden, dost thou mourn for having Inferior light, for all her daughter's
lost sake.
The false Athenian heart ? and dost thou Since Perseus, even amid the stars, must
still take
Take thought of Theseus, when thou Andromeda in chains setherial
may'st at will But / will wreathe thee, sweet, an astral
Have Bacchus for a husband ? Bacchus crown.
bright And my queen and spouse thou shalt
as
A god in place of mortal ! Yes, and be known
though Mine, the crown-lover's!' Thus, at
The mortal youth be charming in thy length, he proved
sight. His comfort on her and the maid was
;

That man of Athens cannot strive be- moved ;

low. And casting Theseus' memory down the

In beauty and valor, with my deity ! brine.
Thou'lt tell me of the labyrinthine She straight received the troth of her
dweller. divine
The fierce man-bull, he slew I pray : Fair Bacchus ; Love stood by to close
thee, be. the rite :

Fair Ariadne, the true deed's true The marriage-chorus struck up clear and
teller, light.
And mention thy clue's help 1 because, Flowers sprouted fast about the chamber
forsooth, • green.
Thine armed Athenian hero had not And with spring-garlands on their
found heads, I ween.
A power to fight on that prodigious The Orchomenian dancers came along.
ground, And danced their rounds in Naxos to
Unless a lady in her rosy youth the song.
 ; —— — ;

9^6 TRANSLA TIONS.

A Hamadryad sang a nuptial dit To Zeus' shame.

Right shrilly : and a Naiad sate beside Can help no more a...
A fountain, with her bare foot shelving it. And Eos' self, the fair, white-steedcd
And hymned of Ariadne, beauteous morning,
bride. Her light which blesses other lands, re-
Whom thus the god of grapes had dei- turning,
fied. Has changed to a gloomy pall
Ortygia sang out, louder than her wont. She looked across the land with eyes of
An ode which Phoebus gave her to be amber,
tried. She saw the city's fall,
And leapt in chorus, with her steadfast She, who, in pure embraces.
front. Had held there, in the hymeneal cham-
While prophet Love, the stars have ber.
called a brother. Her children's father, bright Tithonus
Burnt in his crown, and twined in one old.
another. Whom the four steeds with starry brows
His love-flower with the purple roses, and paces
given Bore on, snatched upward, on the car of
In type of that new crown assigned in gold.
heaven. And with him, all the land's full hope of
joy!
The love-charms of the gods are vain
for Troy.

PARAPHRASE ON HESIOD. Note. — Rendered after Mr. Buiges's leading,

in Borne respects — not quite all.

BACCHUS AND ARIADNE.

{Theog.,gr^7.)
PARAPHRASES ON HOMER.
The golden-haired Bacchus did espouse
That fairest Ariadne, Minos' daughter. HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
And made her wifehood blossom in the [Iliad, Lib. VI.)
house
Where such protective gifts Kronion She rushed to meet him the nurse fol- :

brought her. lowing

Nor Death nor Age could find her Bore on her bosom the unsaddened
when they sought her. child,
A simple babe, prince Hector's well-
loved son.
Like a star shining when the world is
dark.
PARAPHRASE ON EURIPIDES. Seaman drius. Hector called him, but the
rest
ANTISTROPHE. Named him A.'^tyanax, the city's prince.
[Troades, 853.) Because that Hector only, had saved
Troy.
Love, Love who once didst pass the He, when he saw his son, smiled silently ;

Dardan portals. While, dropping tears, Andromache

Because of Heavenly passion ! pressed on.
Who once didst lift up Troy in exulta- And clung to his hand, and spake, and
tion, named his name.
To mingle in thy bond the high Immor-
tals !— '
Hector, my best one, —thine own noble-
Love, turned from his own name ness
 — — — — — ! —
TRANSLA TIONS.

Must needs undo thee. Pity hast thou Come now, and take me into pity !

none Stay
For this young child, and this most sad r the town here with us ! Do not make
myself, thy child
Who soon shall be thy widow —since An orphan, nor a widow, thy poor wife !
that soon Callup the people to the fig-tree, where
The Greeks will slay thee in the general The city is most accessible, the wall
rush Most easy of assault —
for thrice there-
!

And then, for me, what refuge, reft of by

thee. The boldest Greeks have mounted to
But to go graveward ? Then, no com- the breach,
fort more Both Aja.\es, the famed Idomeneus
Shall touch me, as in the old sad times Two sons of Atreus, and the noble one
thou know'st —
Of Tydeus. whether taught by some
Grief only grief
now,
— ! I have no father
Or by
wise seer.
their own souls prompted and
No mother mild Achilles the divine.
! inspired.'
He slew my father, sacked his lofty
Thebes, Great Hector answered :
— ' Lady, for
Cilicia's populous city, and slew its king, these things
—
Eetion father, did not spoil the corse, It is mypart to care. And / fear most
Because the Greek revered him in his My Trojans, and their daughters, and
soul. their wives.
But burnt the body with its daedal arms, Who through their long veils would
And poured the dust out gently. Round glance scorn at me.
that tomb If, coward-like, I shunned the open war.
The Oreads, daughters of the goat- Nor doth my own soul prompt me to
nuised Zeus, that end !

Tripped in a ring, and planted their I learnt to be a brave man constantly.

green elms. And to fight foremost where my Trojans
There were seven brothers with me in fight.
the house. And vindicate my father's glory and
Who all went down to Hades in one mine
day, Because I know, by instinct and my
For he slew all, Achilles the divine. soul,
Famed for his swift feet, —slain among The day comes that our sacred Troy
their herds must fall.
Of cloven-footed bulls and flocking And Priam and his people. Knowing
sheep ! which,
My mother too, who queened it o'er the I have no such grief for all my Trojan's
woods sake.
Of Hippoplacia, he, with other spoil, For Hecuba's, for Priam's, our old king.
Seized, —
and, for golden ransom, freed Not for my brothers', who so many and
too late, brave
Since, as she went home, arrowy Arte- Shall bite the dust before our enemies,
mis As, sweet, for thee to think some —
Met her and slew her at my father's mailed Greek
door. Shall lead thee weeping and deprive thy
—
But oh, my Hector, — thou art to still life
me Of the free sun-sight— that, when gone
Father and mother
dear,
!
—yes, and brother away
To Argos, thou shalt throw the distaff
O thou, who art my sweetest spouse there
beside I Not for thy uses —or shalt carry instead
 ' — — ; ; —
348 TRANSLATIONS.

Upon thy loathing brow, as heavy a , He gave the child ; and she received
doonii him straight
The water
own,
of Greek wells — Messeis' To her bosom's fragrance smiling up —
her tears.
Or Hyperea's !— that some stander-by, Hector gazed on her till his soul was
Marking thy tears fall, shall say, 'This moved ;

is she. Then softly touched her with

The wife of that same Hector who
his hand
and spake.
fought best 'My best one— 'ware of passion and
Of all the Trojans, when all fought for
Troy —
excess
In any fear. There's no man
Ay !
— and, so speaking, shall renew thy world
in the

pang Can send me to the grave apart from

That, reft of him so named, thoushouldst fate,—
survive And no man Sweet, . . I tell thee
To a slave's life But earth shall hide
!
can fly fate
. .

my
corse No good nor bad man. Doom is self-
Ere that shriek sound, wherewith thou fulfilled.
art dragged from Troy.' But now, go home, and ply thy woman's
Thus Hector spake, and stretched task
his
arms to his child.
Of wheel and distaff! bid thy maidens
Against the nurse's breast, with childly haste
cry.
Their occupation. War's a care for
The boy clung back, and shunned his
men
father's face.
For men born
all in Troy, and chief for
And me.'
feared the glittering brass and
waving hair Thus spake the noble Hector, and re-
Of the high helmet, nodding horror sumed
down. His crested helmet, while his spouse
The father smiled, the mother could not went home
choose But as she went, still looked back
But smile too. Then he lifted from his lovingly.
brow Dropping the tears from her reverted
The helm, and set it on the ground to face.
shine :

Then, kissed his dear child raised him — THE DAUGHTERS OF PANDARUS.
with both arms.
And thus invoked Zeus and the general {Odyss., Lib. XX.)
gods :—
And so these daughters fair of Pandarus,
' Zeus, and all godships ! grant this boy The whirlwinds took. The gods had
of mine slain their kin :

To be the Trojans' help, as I myself, They were left orphans in their father's
To live a brave life and rule well in house.
Troy !
And Aphrodite came to comfort them
Till men shall say, 'The son exceeds With incense, luscious honey, and fra-
the sire grant wine
By a far glory.' Let him bring home And Here gave them beauty of face and
spoil soul
Heroic, and make glad his mother's Beyond all women ; purest Artemis
heart
'
Endowed them with her stature and
white grace ;

With which prayer, to his wife's ex- And Pallas taught their hands to flash
tended arms along
 — ! —!; —
TRANSLA TIONS.

Her famous looms. Then, bright with And straight dost depart
deity. Where no gazing can follow.
Toward Olympus, Aphrodite went
far Past Memphis, down Nile !
To ask of Zeus (who has his thunder-joys Ay but love all the while
!

And his full knowledge of man's min- Builds his nest in my heart.
gled fate) Through the cold wmter- weeks :
How best to crown those other gifts with And as one Love takes flight.
love Comes another, O Swallow,
And worthy marriage but, what time
: In an egg warm and white.
she went. And another is callow.
The ravishing Harpies snatched the And the large gaping beaks
maids away. Chirp all day and all night :
And gave them up, for all their loving And the Loves who are older
eyes, Help the young and the poor Loves,
To serve the Furies who hate constantly. And the young Loves grown bolder
Increase by the score Loves
ANOTHER VERSION. Why, what can be done ?
If a noise comes from one.
So the storms bore the daughters of
Pandarus out into thrall Can I bear all this rout of a hundred
The gods slew their parents ; the or- and more Loves ?
phans were left in the hall.
And there came, to feed their young
lives. Aphrodite divine.
With the incense, the sweet-tasting SONG OF THE ROSE.
honey, the sweet-smelling wine ;

Here brought them her wit above wom- ATTRIBUTED TO SAPPHO.

an's, and beauty of face ;

And pure Artemis gave them her stat- If Zeus chose us a King of the flowers
in his mirth.
ure, that form might have grace :

And Athene instructed their hands in

He would call to the rose, and would
royally crown it
her works of renown ;

Then, afar to Olympus, divine Aphrodite For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the grace
of the earth.
moved on :

Is the light of the plants that are

To complete other gifts, by uniting each
girl to a mate.
growing upon it
She sought Zeus, who has joy in the For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the eye of
the flowers.
thunder and knowledge of fate.
Whether mortals have good chance or Is the blush of the meadows that feel
themselves fair,
ill ! But the Harpies alate
Is the lightning of beauty that strikes
In the storm came, and swept off the
maidens, and gave them to wait.
through the bowers
With that love in their eyes, on the On pale lovers that sit in the glow un-
Furies who constantly hate. aware.
Ho, the rose breathes of love ho, the !

rose lifts the cup

To the red lips of Cypris invoked for
PARAPHRASE ON ANACREON. a guest
Ho, the rose having curled its sweet
ODE TO THE SWALLOW. leaves for the world
Takes delight in the motion its petals
Thou indeed, little Swallow, keep up.
A sweet yearly comer. As they laugh to the Wind as it laughs
Art building a hollow from the west.
New nest every summer. From AchaUi Tatim.
 ————— —— — ——— ——
:

THE FOURFOLD ASPECT.

How that true wife said to Postus,

THE FOURFOLD ASPECT. With calm smile and wounded
When ye stood up in the house heart,
With your little childish feet.
'
Sweet, it hurts not ! '
—how Admetus
And touching Life's first shows.
in Saw his blessed one depart.
First the touch of Love did meet, How King Arthur proved his mission.

Love and Nearness seeming one. And Sir Rowlana wound his horn.
By the heart-light cast before. And at Sangreal's moony vision
And, of all Beloveds, none Swords did brisde round like£orn.
Standing farther than the door Oh! ye lifted up your head, and it

Not a name being dear to thought. seemed the while ye read, -

With its owner beyond call.
That this death, then, must be found
Nor a face, unless it brought A Vallialla for the crowned
Its own shadow to the wall.
The heroic who prevail.
When the worst recorded change None, be sure can enter in
Was of apple dropt from bough. Far below a paladin
When love's sorrow seemed more Of a noble, noble tale !

strange So awfully ye thought upon the Dead.

Than love's treason can seem now ;

Then, the Loving took you up

Soft, upon their elder knees, Ay but soon ye woke up shrieking,
!

Telling why the statues droop As a child that wakes at night

Underneath the churchyard trees. From a dream of sisters speaking
And how ye must lie beneath them In a garden's summer-light,
Through the winters long and deep, That wakes, starting up and bounding,
Till the last trump overbreathe them. In a lonely, lonely bed.
And ye smile out of your sleep . . . With a wall of darkness round him.
Oh ye lifted up your head, and it seemed Stifling black about his head !

as if they said And sense of your mortal

A tale of fairy ships
With a swan-wing for a sail
Oh, ye kissed their loving lips
For the merry, merry tale
So carelessly ye thought upon the Dead.
the full
Rushed upon you deep and loud.
! And ye heard the thunder hurtle
From the silence of the cloud
! Funeral-torches at your gateway
Threw a dreadful light within ;
All things changed you rose up !

straightway
Soon ye read solemn stories
in And saluted Death and Sin.
Of the men of long ago Since, — your outward man has rallied
Of the pale bewildering glories And your eye and voice grown
Shining farther than we know. bold—
Of the heroes with the laurel. Yet the Sphinx of Life stands paUid,
Of the poets with the bay. With her saddest secret told.
Of the two worlds' earnest quarrel Happy pL\ces have grown holy :

For that beauteous Helena. ye went where once ye went.

How Achilles at the portal
Of the tent, heard footsteps nigh
And his strong heart, half-immortal.
Met the keitai with a cry,
How Ulysses left the sunlight
For the pale eidola race
Blank and passive through the dun
light.
Staring blindly on his face
If
Only tears would fall down slowly.
As at solemn sacrament
Merry books, once read for pastime.
If ye dared to read again.
Only memories of the last time
Would swim darkly up the brain.
Household names, which used to
flutter
;
Through your laughter unawares,
 — —
! ——

THE FOURFOLD ASPECT. SiS'

God's Divinest ye could utter Learn : the spirit's gravitation

With less trembling in your prayers ! Still must differ from the tear's.
Ye have dropt adown your head, and it Hope : with all the strength thou
seems as if ye tread usest
On your own hearts in the path In embracing thy despair :

Ye are called to in His wrath,' Love the earthly love thou losest
:

And your prayers go up in wail Shall return to thee more fair.

— Dost Thou see, then, all our loss,
' Work make clear the forest-tangles
:

O Thou agonized on cross ? Of

the wildest stranger-land :

Art Thou reading all its tale ? Trust the blessed deathly angels
:

So, mournfully ye think upon the Dead Whisper, ' Sabbath hours at hand !'
By the heart's wound when most gory
By the longest agony.
Pray, pray, thoic who also weepest. Smile —
Behold, in sudden glory
!

And the drops will slacken so ; The Transfigured smiles on thee )

Weep, weep : —
and the watch thou And ye lifted up your head, and it

keepest. seemed as if He said,

With a quicker count will go. '
My Beloved, is it so?
Think —
the shadow on the dial
: Have ye tasted of my wo ?
For the nature most undone, Of my heaven ye shall not fall ! '

Marks the passing of the trial. He stands brightly where the shade is,
Proves the presence of the sun : With the keys of Death and Hades,
Look, look up, in starry passion, And there ends the mournful tale :

To the throne above the spheres, So hopefully ye think upon the Dead.