So, lest this canto should not close to-day, I'll not indite another serious line; But to thy image thus inscribe my lay, Unknown, but much respected' Caroline,' From whom I've just received a flattering letter, Which makes me inconceivably your debtor. XCII. I know not, lady, if thy cheek be fair, But I am sure that thou art good and wise In graver moods, to poet's phantasies; And therefore, lady, shalt thou be enshrined Amidst the holiest visions of my mind. XCIII. Haply I ne'er shall see thee:—be it so ; XCIV. Ay! there it is, with radiant garments flowing, Like summer clouds around the rising sunThe soul-lit eye with heavenly rapture glowing, The cheek just crimson'd o'er, and leaning on The small and snowy hand-alas! I'm growing Most eloquently crazy-but I've done; I only mean to say the form's enshrined XCV. Perhaps 'tis better, lady, we should ne'er Meet, lest this picture should receive a taint; Though I believe that thou art far more fair Than aught that my poor phantasy can paint; But then you know, dear madam, if I were Proud to be thought a poet (which I an't) XCVI. In the mean time I'll thank you to believe me Your kind imagination may conceive me Like Milton on the whole, though something bigger: Slender and graceful;-yet I own 'twould grieve me XCVII. And here I pause awhile, and wish good bye And won't disdain to own they've been amused; In which case, by the first of next July, I shall be very glad to be abused By churlish critics-so but hearts more wise INTRODUCTORY STANZAS TO THE SECOND CANTO OF SIR LAUNFAL. **** ΤΟ 1. BENEATH these willow-boughs, whose hovering shade Shifts with the breeze o'er this secluded stream, 'Midst reeds and waving bulrushes embay'd, My boat hath floated since the noon-day gleam; And now the light of eve begins to fade, And I am scarce awaken'd from my dreamMy long day-dream of thee.-O! gentle friend, When will this thraldom of my spirit end? 2. The storm, by which my heart so late was shaken, The slumbering gusts which make my spirit bow 3. And though these lovely haunts have never seen Thy beauty-nor, perchance, shall ever see, Yet here the shadow of thy charms hath been, 4. But I must dream no more :-and if I borrow 5. part So now farewell to Love,—but not to thee, Did first reveal thy being's depths to me; Its power, and gentleness, and majesty, Its deep and strong affections; and I swear, Here, while my hopes lie crush'd and bleeding yet, Thou art the noblest spirit I have met. 6. High converse, since that hour, we two have held, Which will not be forgotten; thou alone Hast search'd my inmost bosom, and beheld My nature in its weakness;-thou hast known The thoughts that shook, the passions that rebell'd, The dreams that made me tremble;-like thine own, Have been my spirit's faintings.-O! that thou Couldst feel the fulness of my triumph now! 7. Methinks I could embrace my desolation, And say "Farewell" serenely, were I sure That thy young spring of joyous expectation From that far gathering tempest were secure, Which yet may shake thy peace to its foundationBut I believe that thou wilt well endure The fury of the storm, and lift thy brow To heaven, unscathed, and more serene than now. 8. For in thy thoughtful forehead's clear expanse, And in the lightning of thy quick, wild eye, And in the restless dreams, that shift and glance Through all thy eloquent looks incessantlyIn each bright movement of thy countenance— In thy most thrilling converse-I descry Heaven's stamp; nor e'er shall human error bind The strength and genius of thy mighty mind. 9. O! had I known thee earlier—but one year— One little year-when thou wast fancy-free,While both our natures trembled with one fear, And panted with one thirst-I vow to thee, By all that to my soul on earth is dear, By all thy hopes of final victory, By all we feel within, around, above— Thou shouldst have loved me with a Spirit's love. |