The Death-Wake | Page 9

of Heaven,?And under the great galaxies were driven?Of stars that group'd together, and they went?Like voyagers along the firmament,?And grew to silver in the blessed light?Of the moon alchymist. It was not night,?Not the dark deathly shadow, that falls o'er?The eye-lid like a curse, but far before?In splendour, struggling through a fall of gloom,?In many a myriad gushes, that do come?Direct from the eternal stars beyond,?Like holy fountains pouring diamond!
A sail! awake thee, Julio! a sail!?And be not bending to thy trances pale.?But he is gazing on the moonlit brow?Of his dead Agathè, and fondly now,?The light is silvering her bloodless face?And the cold grave-clothes. There is loveliness?As in a marble image, very bright!?But stricken with a phantasy of light?That is not given to the mortal hue,?To life and breathing beauty: and she too?Is more of the expressless lineament,?Than of the golden thoughts that came and went?Over her features like a living tide?No while before.
A sail is on the wide?And moving waters, and it draweth nigh?Like a sea-cloud. The elfin billows fly?Before it, in their armories enthrall'd?Of radiant and moon-breasted emerald;?And many is the mariner that sees?The lone boat in the melancholy breeze,?Waving her snowy canvass, and anon?Their stately vessel with a gallant run?Crowds by in all her glory; but the cheer?Of men is pass'd into a sudden fear,?And whisperings, and shakings of the head--?The moon was streaming on a virgin dead,?And Julio sat over her insane,?Like a sea demon! O'er and o'er again,?Each cross'd him, as the stately vessel stood?Far out into the murmuring solitude!
But Julio saw not; he only heard?A rushing, like the passing of a bird,?And felt him heaving on the foam, that flew?Along the startled billows; and he knew?Of a strange sail, by broken oaths that fell?Beside him, on the coming of the swell.
They knew thou wert a queen, my royal bride!?And made obeisance at thy holy side.?They saw thee, Agathè! and go to bring?Fair worshippers, and many a poet-king,?To utter music at thy pearly feet.--?Now, wake thee! for the moonlight cometh sweet,?To visit in thy temple of the sea;?Thy sister moon is watching over thee!?And she is spreading a fair mantle of?Pure silver, in thy lonely palace, love!--?Now, wake thee! for the sea-bird is aloof,?In solitude, below the starry roof;?And on its dewy plume there is a light?Of palest splendour, o'er the blessed night.?Thy spirit, Agathè!--and yet, thou art?Beside me, and my solitary heart?Is throbbing near to thee: I must not feel?The sweet notes of thy holy music steal?Into my feverous and burning brain,--?So wake not! and I'll hush thee with a strain?Of my wild fancy, till thou dream of me,?And I be loved as I have loved thee:--
SONG
'Tis light to love thee living, girl, when hope is full and fair, In the springtide of thy beauty, when there is no sorrow there-- No sorrow on thy brow, and no shadow on thy heart!?When, like a floating sea-bird, bright and beautiful thou art!
'Tis light to love thee living, girl--to see thee ever so, With health, that, like a crimson flower, lies blushing in the snow; And thy tresses falling over, like the amber on the pearl-- Oh! true it is a lightsome thing, to love thee living, girl!
But when the brow is blighted, like a star of morning tide, And faded is the crimson blush upon the cheek beside;?It is to love, as seldom love, the brightest and the best, When our love lies like a dew upon the one that is at rest.
Because of hopes, that, fallen, are changing to despair, And the heart is always dreaming on the ruin that is there, Oh, true! 'tis weary, weary, to be gazing over thee,?And the light of thy pure vision breaketh never upon me!
He lifts her in his arms, and o'er and o'er,?Upon the brow of chilliness and hoar,?Repeats a silent kiss;--along the side?Of the lone bark, he leans that pallid bride,?Until the waves do image her within?Their bosom, like a spectre--'Tis a sin?Too deadly to be shadow'd or forgiven,?To do such mockery in the sight of Heaven!?And bid her gaze into the startled sea,?And say, "Thy image, from eternity,?Hath come to meet thee, ladye!" and anon,?He bade the cold corse kiss the shadowy one,?That shook amid the waters, like the light?Of borealis in a winter night!
And after, he did strain her sea-wet hair?Between his chilly fingers, with a stare?Of mystery, that marvell'd how that she?Had drench'd it so amid the moonlit sea.?The morning rose, with breast of living gold,?Like eastern phoenix, and his plumage roll'd?In clouds of molted brilliance, very bright!?And on the waste of waters floated light.--
In truth, 'twas strange to see that merry bark?Skimming the silver ocean, like a shark?At play amid the beautiful sea-green,?And all so sadly desolate within.
And hours flew after hours, a weary length,?Until the sunlight, in meridian strength,?Threw