Classic Poem

I.

N O , Oswald, no! I can not see thee now.
I have been very ill; I am too weak
To look unmoved upon thine altered brow.
For countless worlds I would not hear thee speak
Cold words of courtesy and wherefore seek
To see this wrecked, this faded form again?
My eyes are dim, and on my sunken cheek
Hot, bitter tears for thee, shed all in vain,
Have left behind a deep, unalterable stain.

Oh, I have tried in vain to teach my heart
To cast away its idol — to forget
What thou hast been, what even now thou art;
For my wild thoughts cling fondly round thee yet.
Oh, would to God that we had never met,
Or that we had not parted! My sad soul
Feeds on its disappointment and regret,
Without the power to weaken or control
The tide that bears it on to life's unchanging goal.

It was no idle fancy, lightly wrought,
That my too fervent heart bestowed on thee.
No, it was life's best treasure fondly sought,
Erewhile, by gallant men on bended knee
With burning words, and yet my thoughts were free —
Free as the tuneful birds that soar to Heaven,
Free as the waters dancing o'er the sea,
Free as the starlight of a summer even —
Till all my soul's deep truth and trust to thee were given.

II.

I sighed for fame, and won it; but, alas!
It did not bring my life the blessing sought.
Like some bright phantom in a magic glass,
By wizard spells and incantations wrought,
It came and faded as a passing thought.
E'en in my hours of triumph and of pride,
I felt that such a dream was dearly bought,
And from the pomp and glare I turned aside,
And wildly, vainly wept for what fate still denied.

We met. I did not hear the applause, the praise
That told my triumph to the bending skies;
I stood entranced, enraptured in the gaze,
The worship beaming from thy glorious eyes.
The meed of song, the glittering laurel prize,
Till then a gaud of little worth to me,
Save as an empty, lonely, heart's disguise,
I learned to value, deeming that must be
A treasure, which could win admiring looks from thee.

I listened to thy love, and day by day
Thy presence wrought a witchery in my brain,
Till one by one my old dreams passed away,
And forms of beauty wooed my thoughts in vain.
I took no note of river, hill nor plain;
I heard no bird-song in the summer grove,
No music in the fall of summer rain;
There was no joy in life, no star above,
No blossom on the earth for me without thy love.

There came a change: and in the dear old bower,
Where our fond souls had mingled many a day,
We met again to spend a parting hour,
Unnoted twilight came and passed away,
And still we lingered there, in fond delay,
To syllable that bitter word, farewell!
Sad thoughts and wild imaginings held sway,
And when " God-bless thee " from thy pale lips fell,
It seemed to my lone heart like hope's departing knell.

III.

We parted, and I waited for thee long;
The Summer died, with all its fair young flowers
And pleasant voices; birds forgot the song
That sweetly charmed away the rosy hours;
Then Autumn mists hung round the mountain towers,
And then deep-sobbing winds and wintry rain
Shook down the russet leaves from faded bowers,
And gentle Spring came back to hill and plain;
But still I waited, watched for thy return in vain.

At last I sought thee in thy fatherland,
And in thine ancient halls one festive night
I stood disguised, amidst the minstrel band;
A hundred lamps sent forth their mellow light,
Rare jewels gleamed, and red wine sparkled bright,
And music charmed the soul; but my heart died,
And heavy darkness gathered o'er my sight
As I beheld thy face, and by thy side
A lady, cold and proud. O God! she was thy bride!

Entranced I gazed, without the power to break
The spell that bound my senses to the scene.
I dreamed a dreadful dream, yet could not wake
To comprehend what was nor what had been;
I only knew there was a bar between
My life and thine, forever; love's strong power,
The only prop on which my soul could lean,
Was crushed and broken in that fatal hour
And this was man's reward and hapless woman's dower!

That hour of anguish passed, and still I lived —
Lived on, though life's vitality had flown.
I had been falsely, cruelly deceived,
And my existence, in an hour, had grown
A dreary desolation, all bestrown
With undistinguishable hopes and fears.
Amidst the wreck I stood alone, alone,
Trying to pierce, through bitter, blinding tears,
The dull cold mist that hung o'er all life's future years.

IV.

Repentent now, thou hast returned to ask
Forgiveness, and I weep to hear it said
That thou art ill. Oh, would it were my task
To move beside thy couch with gentle tread;
To smooth thy pillow, hold thine aching head,
And whisper loving words! May she whose right
It is to watch and tend thee in my stead,
Deem it her chiefest glory and delight,
To make thy path on earth all beautiful and bright.

But we shall meet once more — once more to part,
Not as we parted in the sunny past.
When love sung syren lays to either heart,
And wizard hope a soft enchantment cast
O'er all the future, brightening to the last
Sweet hour of life. No, Oswald, thou hast given
A keener sting to Death's unpitying blast,
And soon this trembling heart, all wrecked and riven,
Must fail, without one hope of meeting thee in Heaven.

Bright and blest beame! whose strong projection
Equall to all,
Reacheth as well things of dejection
As th' high, and tall;
How hath my God by raying thee
Inlarg'd his spouse,
And of a private familie
Made open house?
All may be now Co-heirs; no noise
Of Bond , or Free
Can Interdict us from those Joys
That wait on thee,
The Law, and Ceremonies made
A glorious night,
Where Stars, and Clouds, both light, and shade
Had equal right;
But, as in nature, when the day
Breaks, night adjourns,
Stars shut up shop, mists pack away,
And the Moon mourns;
So when the Sun of righteousness
Did once appear,
That Scene was chang'd, and a new dresse
Left for us here;
Veiles became useles, Altars fel,
Fires smoking die;
And all that sacred pomp, and shel
Of things did flie;
Then did he shine forth, whose sad fall,
And bitter fights
Were figur'd in those mystical,
And Cloudie Rites;
And as i'th' natural Sun, these three,
Light, motion, heat,
So are now Faith, Hope, Charity
Through him Compleat;
Faith spans up blisse; what sin, and death
Put us quite from,
Lest we should run for't out of breath,
Faith brings us home;
So that I need no more, but say
I do believe,
And my most loving Lord straitway
Doth answer, Live .