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Satires of Circumstance, Lyrics and Reveries, with Miscellaneous Pieces
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Whose wife forsook him, and sank until
She was made a thrall
In a prison-cell for a deed of ill.
“He remained alone; and we met – to love,
But barring legitimate joy thereof
Stood a doorless wall,
Though we prized each other all else above.
“And this was why, though I’d touched my prime,
I put off suitors from time to time —
Yourself with the rest —
Till friends, who approved you, called it crime,
“And when misgivings weighed on me
In my lover’s absence, hurriedly,
And much distrest,
I took you.. Ah, that such could be!.
“Now, saw you when crossing from yonder shore
At yesternoon, that the packet bore
On a white-wreathed bier
A coffined body towards the fore?
“Well, while you stood at the other end,
The loungers talked, and I could but lend
A listening ear,
For they named the dead. ’Twas the wife of my friend.
“He was there, but did not note me, veiled,
Yet I saw that a joy, as of one unjailed,
Now shone in his gaze;
He knew not his hope of me just had failed!
“They had brought her home: she was born in this isle;
And he will return to his domicile,
And pass his days
Alone, and not as he dreamt erstwhile!”
“ – So you’ve lost a sprucer spouse than I!”
She held her peace, as if fain deny
She would indeed
For his pleasure’s sake, but could lip no lie.
“One far less formal and plain and slow!”
She let the laconic assertion go
As if of need
She held the conviction that it was so.
“Regard me as his he always should,
He had said, and wed me he vowed he would
In his prime or sere
Most verily do, if ever he could.
“And this fulfilment is now his aim,
For a letter, addressed in my maiden name,
Has dogged me here,
Reminding me faithfully of his claim.
“And it started a hope like a lightning-streak
That I might go to him – say for a week —
And afford you right
To put me away, and your vows unspeak.
“To be sure you have said, as of dim intent,
That marriage is a plain event
Of black and white,
Without any ghost of sentiment,
“And my heart has quailed. – But deny it true
That you will never this lock undo!
No God intends
To thwart the yearning He’s father to!”
The husband hemmed, then blandly bowed
In the light of the angry morning cloud.
“So my idyll ends,
And a drama opens!” he mused aloud;
And his features froze. “You may take it as true
That I will never this lock undo
For so depraved
A passion as that which kindles you.”
Said she: “I am sorry you see it so;
I had hoped you might have let me go,
And thus been saved
The pain of learning there’s more to know.”
“More? What may that be? Gad, I think
You have told me enough to make me blink!
Yet if more remain
Then own it to me. I will not shrink!”
“Well, it is this. As we could not see
That a legal marriage could ever be,
To end our pain
We united ourselves informally;
“And vowed at a chancel-altar nigh,
She was made a thrall
In a prison-cell for a deed of ill.
“He remained alone; and we met – to love,
But barring legitimate joy thereof
Stood a doorless wall,
Though we prized each other all else above.
“And this was why, though I’d touched my prime,
I put off suitors from time to time —
Yourself with the rest —
Till friends, who approved you, called it crime,
“And when misgivings weighed on me
In my lover’s absence, hurriedly,
And much distrest,
I took you.. Ah, that such could be!.
“Now, saw you when crossing from yonder shore
At yesternoon, that the packet bore
On a white-wreathed bier
A coffined body towards the fore?
“Well, while you stood at the other end,
The loungers talked, and I could but lend
A listening ear,
For they named the dead. ’Twas the wife of my friend.
“He was there, but did not note me, veiled,
Yet I saw that a joy, as of one unjailed,
Now shone in his gaze;
He knew not his hope of me just had failed!
“They had brought her home: she was born in this isle;
And he will return to his domicile,
And pass his days
Alone, and not as he dreamt erstwhile!”
“ – So you’ve lost a sprucer spouse than I!”
She held her peace, as if fain deny
She would indeed
For his pleasure’s sake, but could lip no lie.
“One far less formal and plain and slow!”
She let the laconic assertion go
As if of need
She held the conviction that it was so.
“Regard me as his he always should,
He had said, and wed me he vowed he would
In his prime or sere
Most verily do, if ever he could.
“And this fulfilment is now his aim,
For a letter, addressed in my maiden name,
Has dogged me here,
Reminding me faithfully of his claim.
“And it started a hope like a lightning-streak
That I might go to him – say for a week —
And afford you right
To put me away, and your vows unspeak.
“To be sure you have said, as of dim intent,
That marriage is a plain event
Of black and white,
Without any ghost of sentiment,
“And my heart has quailed. – But deny it true
That you will never this lock undo!
No God intends
To thwart the yearning He’s father to!”
The husband hemmed, then blandly bowed
In the light of the angry morning cloud.
“So my idyll ends,
And a drama opens!” he mused aloud;
And his features froze. “You may take it as true
That I will never this lock undo
For so depraved
A passion as that which kindles you.”
Said she: “I am sorry you see it so;
I had hoped you might have let me go,
And thus been saved
The pain of learning there’s more to know.”
“More? What may that be? Gad, I think
You have told me enough to make me blink!
Yet if more remain
Then own it to me. I will not shrink!”
“Well, it is this. As we could not see
That a legal marriage could ever be,
To end our pain
We united ourselves informally;
“And vowed at a chancel-altar nigh,
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Очень интересная!