Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

They loos'd the bonds that held their captive's breath: From his pale lips they took the cup of death;

They quench'd the brand beneath the cypress tree; "Away," they cried, "young stranger, thou art free!"

COSTANZΑ.

Art thou then desolate ?

Of friends, of hopes forsaken ?-Come to me!

I am thine own. Have trusted hearts prov'd false?
Flatterers deceiv'd thee? Wanderer, come to me!
Why didst thou ever leave me? Know'st thou all
I would have borne, and call'd it joy to bear,

For thy sake? Know'st thou that thy voice had power
To shake me with a thrill of happiness

By one kind tone?-to fill mine eyes with tears

Of yearning love? And thou-oh! thou didst throw
That crush'd affection back upon my heart ;--
Yet come to me !-it died not.

SHE knelt in prayer. A stream of sunset fell Through the stain'd window of her lonely cell, And with its rich, deep, melancholy glow Flushing her cheek and pale Madonna-brow,

While o'er her long hair's flowing jet it threw
Bright waves of gold-the autumn forest's hue-
Seem'd all a vision's mist of glory, spread

By painting's touch around some holy head,
Virgin's or fairest martyr's. In her eye,
Which glanced as dark, clear water to the sky,
What solemn fervor lived! And yet what wo
Lay like some buried thing, still seen below
The glassy tide! Oh! he that could reveal
What life had taught that chasten'd heart to feel,
Might speak indeed of woman's blighted years,
And wasted love, and vainly bitter tears!
But she had told her griefs to Heaven alone,

And of the gentle saint no more was known,
Than that she fled the world's cold breath, and made

A temple of the pine and chestnut shade,

Filling its depths with soul, whène'er her hymn

Rose through each murmur of the green, and dim,
And ancient solitude; where hidden streams

Went moaning through the grass, like sounds in dreams,
Music for weary hearts! 'Midst leaves and flowers
She dwelt, and knew all secrets of their powers,
All nature's balms, wherewith her gliding tread

To the sick peasant on his lowly bed,

Came, and brought hope; while scarce of mortal birth He deem'd the pale, fair form, that held on earth Communion but with grief.

Ere long a cell,

A rock-hewn chapel rose, a cross of stone
Gleam'd through the dark trees o'er a sparkling well,
And a sweet voice, of rich yet mournful tone,
Told the Calabrian wilds, that duly there
Costanza lifted her sad heart in prayer.

And now 'twas prayer's own hour. That voice again
Through the dim foliage sent its heavenly strain,
That made the cypress quiver where it stood
In day's last crimson soaring from the wood
Like spiry flame. But as the bright sun set,
Other and wilder sounds in tumult met

The floating song. Strange sounds !—the trumpet's peal,
Made hollow by the rocks; the clash of steel,
The rallying war-cry.—In the mountain pass,
There had been combat; blood was on the grass,
Banners had strewn the waters; chiefs lay dying,
And the pine-branches crash'd before the flying.

And all was chang'd within the still retreat,
Costanza's home :-there enter'd hurrying feet,
Dark looks of shame and sorrow; mail-clad men,
Stern fugitives from that wild battle-glen, .
Scaring the ringdoves from the porch-roof, bore
A wounded warrior in the rocky floor
Gave back deep echoes to his clanging sword,
As there they laid their leader, and implor'd

The sweet saint's prayers to heal him; then for flight,
Through the wide forests and the mantling night,
Sped breathlessly again. They pass'd—but he,
The stateliest of a host-alas! to see

What mothers' eyes have watch'd in rosy sleep
Till joy, for very fulness turn'd to weep,
Thus chang'd!—a fearful thing! His golden crest
Was shiver'd and the bright scarf on his breast-
Some costly love-gift-rent :-—but what of these?
There were the clustering raven-locks-the breeze
As it came in through lime and myrtle flowers,
Might scarcely lift them-steep'd in bloody showers
So heavily upon the pallid clay

Of the damp cheek they hung! the eyes' dark ray—
Where was it?—and the lips!-they gasp'd apart,
With their light curve, as from the chisel's art,

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »