Ye only wound afresh my bleeding peace,
And keep from gentle EMMA’S anxious ear,
The event she longs, yet kindly dreads, to hear;
But ah! nor singular, nor strange the tale,
My sister-sufferers mourn in every vale;
For gold, and dazzling state, incessant prove,
In Man’s hard heart, the murderers of love.
While many a sun in summer-glory rose,
EUGENIO’S lip no softer accent knows
Than friendship dictates--but disorder’d praise,
Scarce half-express’d; the musing ardent gaze;
The varying cheek; the frequent smother’d sigh,
Reveal the latent meaning of his eye;
Plain, and yet plainer ev’ry hour, declare
The shining secrecies, that languish there.
These are the days that fly on rapture’s wing,
Empurpling ev’ry flower that decks the spring;
For when delicious Hope, with whisper bland,
Wakes the dear magic of her potent wand,
More vivid colours paint the rising morn,
And clearer crystal gems the silver thorn;
On more luxuriant shade the noon-beam plays,
And richer gold the evening-sun arrays;
Stars seem to glitter with enamour’d fire,
And shadowy hills in statelier grace aspire;
More subtle sweetness scents the passing gales,
And softer beauty decks the moon-light vales;
All Nature smiles! nor e’en the jocund day,
When festive roses strew the bridal way,
Darts through the virgin breast such keen delight,
As when soft fears with gay belief unite;
As hope, sweet, warm, seducing hope inspires,
Which somewhat questions, what it most desires;
Reads latent meaning in a lover’s eye,
Thrills at his glance, and trembles at his sigh;
As o’er the frame disorder’d transport pours,
When only less than certainty is ours.
At length, that rosy certainty appears,
With faithless promises of golden years.
Here, by this fountain side, EUGENIO strove
To trace the tender progress of his love;
’Twas on the evening of a splendid day;--
Calm on the gilded grass the fountain lay!
But oh! when doubt, in that dear moment, fled,
A calm more sunny o’er my bosom spread!
As the gay lark his last clear carol sung,
And on a slanting sun-beam warbling hung,
With sweeter music trill’d the vesper lay,
Than when he soar’d amid the blaze of day;
But yet a thousand times more sweet the sound,
In which my soul its dearest blessing found!
Slow on the Sun had stol’n the sailing cloud,
And drawn o’er his gay fires the purple shroud,
Then roll’d away!--till, by no shade represt,
Afar the setting orb emblaz’d the west;
Lighted with arrowy beams the ocean caves,
And sunk with splendour in the illumin’d waves.
Thus oft would Modesty her blush employ,
Coyly to veil the radiance of my joy;
But from these eyes the sun-bright gladness beam’d,
And all the triumph of my bosom stream’d!
’Twas here,--e’en here!--where now I sit reclin’d,
And Winter’s sighs sound hollow in the wind;
Loud, and more loud the blast of evening raves,
And strips the oaks of their last, lingering leaves;
The eddying foliage in the tempest flies,
And fills with duskier gloom the thick’ning skies.
Red sinks the Sun, behind the howling hill,
And rushes, with hoarse stream, the mountain rill,
And now, with ruffling billow, cold, and pale,
Runs, swoln, and dashing, down the lonely vale;
While to these tear-full eyes, Grief’s faded form
Sits on the cloud, and sighs amid the storm!
Yet, dreary vale! detain thy pensive guest,
Though drizzling sleet beats cold upon her breast!
To this sad soul more welcome are thy glooms,
Than Spring’s green bowers, or Summer’s gaudy blooms;
Nor asks an heart, that only breathes to sigh,
A warmer mansion, or a kinder sky!
And still that destin’d heart, so fond to mourn,
And dwell on scenes, which never can return,
Shrinks, e’en as guilty bosoms shrink from shame,
To join with perfidy EUGENIO’S name;
Feels its soft streams in ev’ry pulse recede
From the pain’d mention of one barbarous deed,
That kills my hopes, like Eurus’ fierce career
On the bright foliage of the early year;
Which turns, while premature its buds disclose,
To livid yellowness the damask rose.
Thou see’st, my EMMA, with what fond delay
The unwilling spirit loiters on her way;
Clings to past scenes that wore gay summer’s form;
Clings to the wildness of the wint’ry storm,
To stop the sad narration, ere it throw,
Dark on my fate, the long, long night of woe.
Yet, O my soul! resume it, ere the power
Of wasting sickness brings the fever’d hour,
That stops the ill-guided pen in the weak hand,
And shakes from life’s dim glass the ebbing sand!
Thou, EMMA, wilt not blame my easy youth,
That soon this heart declar’d its tenderest truth.
Ah! could I dream he feign’d, whose glances warm
With ceaseless ardour wander’d o’er my form?
And as gay smiles, and youthful graces fair,
Shone in my eyes, and harmoniz’d my air,
Not one unheeded pass’d his eager gaze,
His fervent, yet discriminating praise;
Though oft he swore, amid the fond survey,
The mind they grac’d was lovelier far than they;
Protested oft, that mind was form’d to share
Each high-soul’d purpose, and each virtuous care;
Catch ev’ry new idea, as it rose,
Partake his joys, and melt with all his woes;
False could I think that vow, whose starting tear
Sprung, the warm witness of a faith sincere?
Now dawn’d the appointed, but unwelcome day,
That bore my dearest brother far away,
Where foreign climes might store his ripening youth,
With observation, science, taste, and truth.
The same sad day my lov’d EUGENIO sigh’d
Adieus impassion’d to his promis’d bride;
Yet often urg’d, inspiring faithless ease,
That between us fate spread no cruel seas;--
Alas! in his chang’d heart my eyes explore,
Of falsehood’s waves,--a sea,--without a shore!
Where Thames expands with freedom’s wealthy pride,
Attractive Commerce calls him to her tide;
As with firm step she runs along the strand,
And points to the tall ship, the distant land.
His rising interests on the call attend,
For with a father’s prosperous fate they blend.
Thus, with these interests, duty’s filial power
Unites to tear him from LOUISA’S bower;
But parting sorrows yield them to the force
Of strong necessity’s resistless course,
By generous confidence when lull’d to rest,
That broods, on dove-like pinion, o’er the breast;
While, from kind letters, rays of joy pervade
The gloomy moments of the love-sick maid;
And oh! how warm, how bright those letters glow’d,
What ardent love, in melting language flow’d,
My dearest EMMA, thou wilt ne’er explore!
The brilliant talismans are mine no more!
Pride, virgin-pride, pronounc’d the stern behest,
And tore the faithless scriptures from my breast!
Through four sweet months, to my delighted eyes
These precious tablets of my bliss arise!
At length, dread silence,--torturing doubt and fear,
Prompt the pang’d sigh--but check the softer tear;
Through the lone day, and lonelier night, impart
“The hope deferr’d, that maketh sick the heart.”
Wish’d morning comes!--and hour succeeds to hour!
But still, suspense, and terror, o’er me lour;
Chace each conjecture kind, with fierce controul,
And send their cruel ice-bolts through my soul.
Three wretched weeks my throbbing bosom bears
The wounding conflict of its various fears,
While Rumour’s voice inflames my grief, and pride,
And gives EUGENIO to a wealthier bride.
My trembling hands, the sick suspense to ease,
From day to day the public records seize;
While glances, rapid as the meteor’s ray,
Eager amidst the crowded columns stray;
Snatch at sad certainty from busy fame,
Yet dread to meet my dear EUGENIO’S name.
Now glooms on the stain’d page the barbarous truth,
And blights each blooming promise of my youth!
EUGENIO married!--Anguish, and despair,
In ev’ry pompous killing letter glare!
Thy love, a sacrifice to glut thy pride!
Ah! what avail the riches of thy bride!
Can they avail, remorseless as thou art,
To tear the wrong’d LOUISA from thy heart?
Gold, and ye gems, that lurk in eastern cave,
Or to the sun your gay resplendence wave,
Can joys sincere, one heart-felt transport live
In aught ye purchase, or in aught ye give?
A bliss, to rival those thy avarice lost,
Insolvent INDIA shall but vainly boast!
Was it for this my gentle brother’s heart
Bore in our growing loves so warm a part!
That soft indulgence deck’d his open brows,
That smiles fraternal hail’d our mutual vows!
And, as he kindly breath’d the parting sigh,
Love’s crystal fluid rushing to his eye,
Was it for this our blooming hopes he blest,
Seiz’d our twin’d hands, and clasp’d them to his breast?
Ah! did he know his lov’d LOUISA’S fate,
What energy would nerve his rising hate!--
Haste, my LORENZO, to thy sister’s aid!
With thy swift vengeance be her wrongs repaid!
Ye rising winds, his wandering sails restore!
Ye refluent waters, bear him to the shore!
And thou, vain bride! enjoy the meteor-ray,
The fancied sun-beam of thy nuptial day!
Stern fury waits, to quench its transient light,
In deep, ensanguin’d, everlasting night!--
Bleed, faithless, bleed! LOUISA’S wrongs explor’d,
Shall frown relentless on her brother’s sword!--
Rash, lost LOUISA! could’st thou bear the strife?
Throw on a fatal chance thy brother’s life?
Or stretch, a victim to thy proud disdain,
EUGENIO, pale, and bleeding, on the plain?
Endure that from a bosom, once so dear,
Convulsive pangs the trembling life should tear?
Oh! should’st thou, certain of the cruel truth,
Behold, in fancy’s eye, the slaughter’d youth,
Could’st thou that lov’d, that lovely form survey,
And see it faded to insensate clay?
Eternal darkness on those eye-lids hung?
Eternal silence stiffen on that tongue?
No! wildly, from the bare surmise, I start,
And treble fondness rushes through my heart;
Live!--live, EUGENIO!--free from fierce alarms,
Blest, if thou canst, e’en in my rival’s arms!
O! safe, thro’ lengthen’d years, may’st thou remain
From all the varied forms of deathful pain!
From injur’d honour’s unrelenting ire,
The blast of accident, the fever’s fire!
Soft may those dangerous graces melt away,
And gently sink in scarce perceiv’d decay!
For this my breast its cureless woes shall hide,
Nor sting fraternal love, nor generous pride.
Yes, dear LORENZO! thou shalt still believe,
Tho’ much the thought thy gentle breast will grieve,
LOUISA, lost to tenderness, and truth,
In the vain levity of thoughtless youth,
Prov’d to EUGENIO’S love a cold ingrate,
And lightly splenetic deserv’d her fate.
Cruel remembrance! how shall I assuage
The yearning pangs of thy incessant rage?
What balmy comfort can the heart pervade,
When bitter tears his broken faith upbraid,
Whose hand, we fondly hop’d, should wipe away
Their flowing sorrows through each future day?
Since in reflection’s grasp each blessing dies,
When the forc’d struggling spirit must despise
Him who, encircled with perfection’s zone,
Long in our sight scarce less than angel shone.
For if credulity her warmth impart,
With veils of light she screens the selfish heart;
But barbarous perfidy’s severe extreme,
In shades eternal, shrouds each gorgeous beam.
On the arch’d windows thus, that proudly grace
An high majestic temple’s awful face,
When pours the setting sun its darting rays,
An hundred solar orbs appear to blaze;
But when the incumbent shades of louring night
Curtain the source of this illusive light,
Its evanescent fires no more remain,
But horrors gather round the darken’d fane;
The lofty turrets, desolately grand,
In dreary state, and lonely silence stand;
Through the dim aisles pale spectres seem to flit,
And hollow groans the whispering walls repeat.
So, round EUGENIO’S form, that rises yet,
’Mid pride’s cold frown, and passion’s warm regret,
Depriv’d of all the lustre it retain’d,
When gay belief with sunny hue remain’d,
Incessant now the fiends of Avarice glide,
With dark Ambition scowling at their side.
Detested impotence of flatter’d charms,
That could not bind my wanderer to my arms!
Ah! what avail’d your beauties, but to lure
That fleeting love, ye knew not to secure!
Like opening flow’rs, that deck the desert glade,
Fair to no purpose, flatter’d graces fade!--
One healing draught--and all shall yet be well!
“Peace is the pale-eyed sister of the cell,”
The cell of DEATH--where misery only knows
The soft exemption,--and the long repose.
Ah no!--a guardian spirit seems to say,
“Stay thee, LOUISA, yet a little stay!
“Awake not righteous Heaven’s avenging hate,
“By rashly plunging in the waves of fate!
“Though time, for woes like thine, admits no cure,
“Yet learn its hardest lesson, to endure!
“Not long shall life her torturing sense impart
“Of the barb’d shaft, that rankles in thy heart.
“Thou shalt not need to stain thy spotless soul,
“Nor want the ensanguin’d knife, the envenom’d bowl;
“Thy soul’s belov’d, by vain ambition fir’d,
“Deaf, as the grave, to all that once inspir’d,
“To love’s soft voice,--to honour’s awful plea,
“Lives to another!--and is lost to thee!”
EUGENIO married!--Oh!--yon village bell,
That flings on the cold gale its mournful knell!
The solemn pause,--the loud repeated toll,
Calling the pale corse to its darksome goal,
Not plainer there the tale of death relate,
Than these detested words pronounce my fate!
EUGENIO married, seals LOUISA’S doom,
Her sure, though lingering passport to the tomb!
And thou, soft mourner o’er my bosom’s smart!
Friend of my soul, and sister of my heart!
A fallen blossom while thy tears embalm,
Regrets that fondness prompts, let fondness calm;
Since though this mortal frame, affection’s slave,
Wastes by the envenom’d wound that falsehood gave,
I still possess, thus withering in my youth,
The peace of innocence, the pride of truth;
My soul is conscious of its heavenly sire,
The cherub, Faith, has lent her wings of fire;
Man, the base object of my scorn, it leaves,
To join that gracious power, that ne’er deceives!
When busy rumours to thy ear disclose
The long enfranchisement of all my woes,
Oh! let thy mind’s pure eye behold me soar
Where light, and life, from springs unfailing pour!
Mark the bright circlets of the eternal morn,
In radiant points, my smiling brows adorn!
By kindred seraphs see thy friend embrac’d,
Nor one slight thought on false EUGENIO waste!
Yet, though from pain and grief for ever free,
Throw back soft pity’s tender glance on thee!
Smile at the human weakness of thy tears,
And long to welcome thee to <small>HAPPIER SPHERES</small>!
SECOND EPISTLE.
EUGENIO
TO
EMMA,
ON HER RETURN FROM THE EAST-INDIES.
APRIL 15, 1781.
Start not, dear EMMA, at an hapless name,
Veil’d, to thy sense, in perfidy and shame!
Oh! deep indeed the mists, they long have spread,
To fancy’s eye, round this devoted head!
While deeper still the shades of anguish lower,
Drear as the night upon the wint’ry bower,
When bitter winds howl fearful o’er the plains,
And the bright stars are quench’d amid the rains!
So quench’d each smiling pleasure’s roseate ray,
That once illumin’d lost EUGENIO’S way!
But e’er his tortur’d soul’s incessant strife
Burst the dark confines of disastrous life,
Given, or with-held, by EMMA’S guardian hands,
As her friend’s peace hereafter best demands,
Will she receive EUGENIO’S last request,
In faithful trust for her LOUISA’S breast,
Hear his sad story--that yet dares appear
To claim her justice, and implore her tear?
If so, let now thy gentle heart incline
To mourn the trials, and the pangs of mine!
No longer shalt thou think I basely sold
My peace, my liberty, my love, for gold:
That gold did purchase them, we know too well;
But Oh! no sordid sacrifice they fell!
Learn then those dire events, whose tyrant sway
Forc’d me to throw joy’s vital root away,
Yield my LOUISA to their stern controul,
Gem of my youth! and day-star of my soul!
To thee, so long accustom’d to disclose
Whate’er on life the strengthen’d colour throws,
To thee LOUISA questionless appeal’d!
Reveal’d my vows, my broken faith reveal’d;
Taught thee, through scenes, now past and gone, rove,
And hate the mean apostate to his love.
Veil’d by her native groves, I left the maid,
And journey’d onward from that blooming glade,
With eyes, full oft reverted as I pass’d,
With many a look to heaven in fervour cast,
To implore protection for LOUISA’S peace,
Her health’s dear safety, and our love’s increase.
Ere yet I join’d the animated train,
Whose full-fraught vessels seek the ports of gain,
To that domestic scene I bent my way,
Which far in Deva’s woodland mazes lay;
A rural kind retreat from all the cares
Which busy Commerce for her sons prepares.
Translucent Deva the green valley laves,
And darkling alders screen her wandering waves,
Till slow she rises from o’er-hanging shades,
And, seen, at distance, through the opening glades,
With bank less veil’d, and streams that mildly shine,
Leads round the lonely hills her silver line.
In that sweet dale, and by a mountain’s side,
Whose sheltering heights the angry North deride,
Abode, so late, of cheerfulness and ease,
White gleams the mansion through the waving trees!
Tall are the trees that whisper round its walls,
And soft the path-way down the valley falls!
Oh! how each charm, that decks the quiet scene,
Assum’d new grace, and wore a softer mien,
From the blest thought, that soon the nuptial hour
Would lead LOUISA to my native bower!
’Twas there my gentle parents often knew
The calm sweet night, the day that lightly flew;
And there the heart-felt pleasure gaily shew’d
EUGENIO’S welcome to the green abode.
A father’s elevating gladness proved
How dear the presence of the son he loved.
My gentle mother, archly smiling, prest
The love-sick wanderer to her honoured breast;
For so she fondly called her darling youth,
Yet lov’d his ardour, and approved his truth.
My sisters, fair, ingenuous, graceful maids,
The acknowledg’d pride of all the neighbouring shades,
Met me with bounding step, and joyous mien,
And rays of transport brightened all the scene.
Nor wilt thou, mighty Love! upbraid my heart,
For bearing in their joys so warm a part;
Since no ambition gloomed my father’s brow,
No thirst of wealth reproached my plighted vow;
He scorned to name LOUISA’S want of gold,
But gladly listened while her worth I told.
Pleased has he seen her in this melting eye,
Pleased with her name, half whispered in a sigh;
Then would I grasp his hand, and ardent say,
“Oft shall my parents bless our bridal day,
“Since, from that soul of sweetness, they shall share
“A daughter’s tenderness, an angel’s care;
“For hers each virtue, and each grace refin’d,
“That breathe on loveliness the glow of mind,
“And, with assiduous duty’s cheering power,
“Strew life’s worn path with ev’ry filial flower.”
One eve, as on the shady bank I rode,
Where through new dales the beauteous Deva flow’d,
Loitering I listen to the red-breast clear,
The last, lone songster of the waning year.
Light o’er the leaves sweet Autumn breathes serene,
And tips with gold their yet unfaded green.
Now many a vapour grey the stream exhales,
And twilight steals unheeded on the vales;
O’er the hill tops the lines of crimson run,
The glowing raiments of the vanished sun;
Nor yet the deep’ning shades of night impede
My roving course, which pensive musings lead,
What time the moon of Ceres mildly throws
Her shadowy grace, and breathes her soft repose
O’er the dark shrubs, that clothe the rocky steeps,
Shelve from their tops, and fringe the crystal deeps;
While, as around those rocks the river glides,
White moon-beams tremble in the glancing tides.
Sudden, wild sounds are borne along the gales!
The piercing shriek my startled ear assails!
But scarce a moment, with check’d rein, I stand,
The uplift’d cane grasp’d sternly in my hand,
Ere bending forward o’er my eager horse,
Urging, with needless spur, his rapid course,
And plunging through the deep, opposing flood,
I pierce the tangled mazes of the wood.
On fibrous oaks, that roughen all the ground,
My steed’s fleet hoofs with hollow noise resound;
And, doubled by the echoes from the caves,
Appal a guilty band of desperate slaves;
For soon, in ruthless, felon-gripe, I found
A beauteous female, screaming on the ground;
Dragged from her horse, that grazed unconscious near,
Her tresses torn, and frantic with her fear.
Two liveried youths, attendant on the maid,
At the first onset in that gloomy glade,
Had, or seduced by gold, or winged by dread,
From danger, and from duty, coward fled.
Alarm’d, the villains quit their struggling prey,
And two, with terror struck, speed fast away.
Fiercer the third, the arm of blood extends;
The levell’d tube, in dire direction, bends!
Yet no cold fear arrests my vengeful force,
And his wing’d death-ball flies with erring course;
But not descends my nervous blow in vain,
The hidden lead indents the murderer’s brain;
With one demoniac glance, as down he fell,
The soul starts furious from its vital cell,
Then tender pity and assiduous care,
Conduct me swiftly to the swooning fair.
The light, cool drops, scoop’d from the neighbouring spring,
O’er her pale brow solicitous I fling;
Till life’s warm tide, which long the heart detains,
Returns, slow purpling the forsaken veins.
In one deep sigh, as recollection came,
It wakens gratitude’s impetuous flame.
‘For more than life,’ exclaims the trembling maid,
‘I stand indebted to thy generous aid.’
‘Cease, fair-one, cease: well might this arm deserve
‘That deadliest palsies wither ev’ry nerve,
‘Had it refus’d the aid to thee it gave,
‘Or coward shunn’d the duty of the brave!
‘But let me now, since danger haunts delay,
‘To safer scenes my lovely charge convey.
‘Deep in yon vale, ERNESTO’S modest dome
‘Lifts its fair head--my tranquil, happy home!
‘There ev’ry welcome shall her steps receive,
‘That hospitable affluence knows to give.’
This said, her trembling form, with anxious haste,
My twining arms on her light courser plac’d;
Then, as emerging from the darkling wood,
Along the moon-bright dales we slowly rode,
Surpris’d his gorgeous trappings I behold,
The net of silver, and the thongs of gold;
While all the vestments of the lovely dame
The pride of elevated rank proclaim.
The costly lace had golden leaves imprest
Light on the borders of the pearly vest;
Her taper waist the broider’d zone entwines,
Clasp’d by a gem, the boast of orient mines;
On as we pass, on ev’ry side it gleams,
And to the moon, in trembling lustre, streams.
Dear EMMA, that the splendid garb could gain,
E’en in an hour exempt from grief and pain,
The attentive gaze, proves my devoted heart
From eyes so bright met no resistless dart;
For when the maid Love’s potent cestus wears,
The jealous God no glance dividual bears.
Ah! in those halycon days, a mind at ease
Empower’d slight things to interest, and to please;
That memory should their faded tints relume,
When deprivation’s deepest shadows gloom,
Perhaps seem strange!--but now, that full, and free,
My long imprison’d spirit springs to thee,
Friend of my love! to whom I dare reveal
All that my soul has felt, or knows to feel,
So softened seem the asperities of grief,
My senses anchor on the kind relief;
With trivial circumstance retard the pen,
Ere languid solitude shall lour again;
For oh! when, lost in woes of lengthen’d date,
Alone we’ve lean’d upon the thorn of fate,
Seeking, at last, the kind assuasive rest,
Found only on compassion’s downy breast,
We feel, as soft the imparted sorrows flow,
Almost discharged the bitterness of woe.
Within ERNESTO’S hospitable gates,
Alarme at my delay, Affection waits;
But as I lead the bright distinguished maid,
Explain her danger, and my prosperous aid,
The dear inhabitants around her move,
With deep respect, kind care, and generous love.
And soon we learn, our peaceful walls contain
The splendid heiress of a vast domain,
EMIRA, she, whose wealth, and charms, inspire
The crowd of titled youth with amorous fire;
While rumour paints her, midst the obsequious train,
Though frolic, insolent; though haughty, vain.
But to our eyes, these wild and wandering fires
Are screen’d by rising hopes, and gay desires;
For still, the parting hour with care delay’d,
EMIRA loiters in ERNESTO’S shade;
The noon-tide sun, the evening’s softer ray
Beholds the fair one through the valley stray;
Thus, on MATILDA leaning, fondly own[119]
Her heart’s new choice in passion’s warmest tone.
“Lost to the world, for ever could I dwell
“In the dear precincts of this sylvan cell;
“Renounce each vain, though once ador’d delight,
“That dissipates the day, or gilds the night;
“That can each gay seducing art employ,
“To flatter beauty, and inspirit joy.”