the secrets of my soul thy loveHath such sweet right, I lift the veil above
Home's shattered gods, and show what wounds belong
To writhing honour and revengeless wrong.—
"Rear'd in the desert, round its rugged child,
All we call life, group'd, menacing and wild;
But to man's soul there is an inner life;
There, one soft vision smiled away the strife! A fairy shape, that seem'd afar to stand On the lost shores of Youth—the Fairy land; A voice that call'd me 'brother;'—years had fled Since my rough breast had pillow'd that sweet head, Yet still my heart throbb'd with the pressure; still Tears, such as mothers know, my eyes would fill; Prayers, such as fathers pray, my soul would breathe; The oak were sere but for that jasmine-wreath! At length, wealth came; my footsteps left the wild— Again we met:—to woman grown the child: How did we meet?—that heart to me was dead! The bird, far heard amidst the waste was fled! With earthlier fires that breast had learn'd to burn; And what yet left? but ashes in the urn: Woo'd and abandon'd! all of love, hope, soul Lavish'd—now lifeless!—well, were this the whole! But the good name—the virgin's pure renown— Woman's white robe, and Honour's starry crown, Lost, lost, for ever!"
O'er his visage past
His trembling hand—then, hurriedly and fast,
As one who from the knife of torture swerves,
Then spurns the pang, as pride the weakness nerves,
Resumed—"As yet that secret was withheld, All that I saw, was sorrow that repell'd— A dreary apathy, whose death-like chill Froze back my heart and left us sever'd still.
"One night I fled that hard indifferent eye;
To crowds, the heart that Home rejects, will fly!—
Gay glides the dance, soft music fills the hall:
I fled, to find, the loneliness through all!
Thou know'st but half a brother's bond I claim—
My mother's daughter bears her father's name;
My mother's heart had long denied her son,
And loath'd the tie that pride had taught to shun.
My sister's lips, forbid the bond to own,
Left the scorn'd life, a brother breathed, unknown.[R] Not even yet the alien blood confest; Who, in the swart hues of the Eastern guest And unfamiliar name, could kindred trace With the young Beauty of the Northern Race?— Calm in the crowd I stood, when hark, a word Smote on my ear, and stunn'd the soul that heard! A sound, with withering laughter muttered o'er, Blistering the name—O God!—a sister bore; Nought clear, and nought defined, save scorn alone— Not heard the name scorn coupled with her own; Somewhat of nuptials fix'd, of broken ties, The foul cause hinted in the vile surmise, The gallant's fame for conquests, lightly won, For homes dishonour'd, and for hearts undone: Not one alone on whom my wrath could seize, From lip to lip the dizzying slander flees; No single ribald separate from the herd, Through the blent hum one stinging tumult stirr'd; One felt, unseen, infection circling there A bodiless venom in the common air, And as the air impalpable!—so seem The undistinguished terrors of a dream, Now clear, now dim, transform'd from shape to shape, The gibbering spectres scare us and escape.
"Fearful the commune, in that dismal night,
Between the souls which could no more unite—
The lawful anger and the shaming fears,
Man's iron question, woman's burning tears;
All that, once utter'd, rend for aye the ties
Of the close bond God fashion'd in the skies.
I learn'd at last—for 'midst my wrath, deep trust
In what I loved, left even passion just;
And I believed the word, the lip, the eye,
That to my horrid question flash'd reply;—
I learn'd at last that but the name was stain'd,
Honour was wreck'd, but Purity remain'd.
Oh pardon, pardon!—if a doubt that sears,
A word that stains, profane such holy ears!
So, oft amidst my loneliness, my heart
Hath communed with itself, and groan'd apart—
Recall'd that night, and in its fierce despair,
Shaped some full vengeance from the desert air—
That I forgot what angel, new from Heaven,
Sweet spotless listener, to my side was given!
"But who the recreant lover?—this, in vain
My question sought; that truth not hard to gain;
And my brow darken'd as I breathed the threat
Fierce in her shrinking ear, 'that wrath should reach him yet!'
I left her speechless; when the morning came, }
With the fierce pang, writhed the self-tortured frame, }
The poison hid by Woe, drain'd by despairing Shame. }
"Few words, half-blurr'd by shame, the motive clear'd,
For the false wooer, not herself, she feared;
'Accept,' she wrote 'O brother, sternly just,
The life I yield—but holy be my dust!
Hear my last words, for, them Death sanctify! Forbear his life for whom it soothes to die. And let my thought, the memory of old time, The soul that flees the stain, nor knew the crime, Strike down thine arm! and see me in the tomb, Stand, like a ghost, between Revenge and Doom!'
"I bent, in agony and awe, above
The broken idol of my boyhood's love.
Echo'd each groan and writhed with every throe,
And cried, 'Live yet! O dove, but brood below,
Hide with thy wings the vengeance and the guilt,
And give my soul thy softness if thou wilt!'
And, as I spoke, the heavy eye unclosed,
The hand press'd mine, and in the clasp reposed,
The wan lip smiled, the weak frame seem'd to win
Strange power against the torture-fire within;
The leach's skill the heart's strong impulse sped,
