Poems (1786) Part 4

Yet milder virtues he possest, And gentler pa.s.sions felt; For in his calm and yielding breast The soft affections dwelt.

No rugged toils the heart could steel, By nature form'd to prove Whate'er the tender mind can feel, In friendship, or in love.

He lost the partner of his breast, Who sooth'd each rising care; And ever charm'd the pains to rest She ever lov'd to share.

From solitude he hop'd relief.

And this lone mansion sought, To cherish there his faithful grief, To nurse the tender thought.

There, to his bosom fondly dear, An infant daughter smil'd, And oft the mourner's falling tear Bedew'd his Emma's child.

The tear, as o'er the babe he hung, Would tremble in his eye; While blessings, falt'ring on his tongue, Were breath'd but in a sigh.

Tho' time could never heal the wound, It sooth'd the hopeless pain; And in his child he thought he found His Emma liv'd again.

Soft, as the dews of morn arise, And on the pale flower gleam; So soft Eltruda's melting eyes With love and pity beam.

As drest in charms, the lonely flower Smiles in the desert vale; With beauty gilds the morning hour, And scents the evening gale;

So liv'd in solitude, unseen, This lovely, peerless maid; So grac'd the wild, sequester'd scene, And blossom'd in the shade.

Yet love could pierce the lone recess, For there he likes to dwell; To leave the noisy crowd, and bless With happiness the cell.

To wing his sure resistless dart, Where all its force is known; And rule the undivided heart Despotic, and alone.

Young Edwin charm'd her gentle breast, Tho' scanty all his store; No h.o.a.rded treasures he possest, Yet he could boast of more.

For he could boast the lib'ral heart; And honour, sense, and truth, Unwarp'd by vanity or art, Adorn'd the gen'rous youth.

The maxims of a servile age, The mean, the selfish care, The sordid views, that now engage The mercenary pair;

Whom riches can unite, or part, To them were still unknown; For then the sympathetic heart Was join'd by love alone.

They little knew, that wealth had power To make the constant rove; They little knew the weighty dower Could add one bliss to love.

Her virtues every charm improv'd, Or made those charms more dear; For surely virtue to be lov'd Has only to appear.

Domestic bliss, unvex'd by strife, Beguil'd the circling hours; She, who on every path of life Can shed perennial flowers.

Eltruda, o'er the distant mead, Would haste, at closing day, And to the bleating mother lead The lamb, that chanc'd to stray.

For the bruis'd insect on the waste, A sigh would heave her breast; And oft her careful hand replac'd The linnet's falling nest.

To her, sensations calm as these Could sweet delight impart; These simple pleasures most can please The uncorrupted heart.

Full oft with eager step she flies To cheer the roofless cot, Where the lone widow breathes her sighs, And wails her desp'rate lot.

Their weeping mother's trembling knees, Her lisping infants clasp; Their meek, imploring look she sees, She feels their tender grasp.

Wild throbs her aching bosom swell-- They mark the bursting sigh, (Nature has form'd the soul to feel) They weep, unknowing why.

Her hands the lib'ral boon impart, And much her tear avails To raise the mourner's drooping heart, Where feeble utterance fails.

On the pale cheek, where hung the tear Of agonizing woe, She bids the cheerful bloom appear, The tear of rapture flow.

Thus on soft wing the moments flew, (Tho' love implor'd their stay) While some new virtue rose to view, And mark'd each fleeting day.

The youthful poet's soothing dream Of golden ages past; The muse's fond, ideal theme, Was realiz'd at last.

But vainly here we hope, that bliss Unchanging will endure; Ah, in a world so vain as this, What heart can rest secure!

For now arose the fatal day For civil discord fam'd; When _York_, from _Lancaster's_ proud sway, The regal sceptre claim'd.

Each moment now the horrors brought Of desolating rage; The fam'd atchievements now were wrought, That swell th' historic page.

The good old Albert pants, again To dare the hostile field, The cause of Henry to maintain, For him, the launce to wield.

But oh, a thousand gen'rous ties, That bind the hero's soul; A thousand tender claims arise, And Edwin's breast controul.

Tho' pa.s.sion pleads in Henry's cause, And Edwin's heart would sway; Yet honour's stern, imperious laws, The brave will still obey.

Oppress'd with many an anxious care, Full oft Eltruda sigh'd; Complaining that relentless war Should those she lov'd--divide.

At length the parting morn arose, In gloomy vapours drest; The pensive maiden's sorrow flows, And terror heaves her breast.

A thousand pangs the father feels, A thousand rising fears, While clinging at his feet she kneels, And bathes them with her tears.

A pitying tear bedew'd his cheek,-- From his lov'd child he flew; O'erwhelm'd; the father could not speak, He could not say--"adieu!"

Arm'd for the field, her lover He saw her pallid look, And trembling seize her drooping frame, While fault'ring, thus he spoke:

"This cruel tenderness but wounds "The heart it means to bless; "Those falling tears, those mournful sounds "Increase the vain distress."--

"If fate, she answer'd, has decreed "That on the hostile plain, "My Edwin's faithful heart must bleed, "And swell the heap of slain;

"Trust me, my love, I'll not complain, "I'll shed no fruitless tear; "Not one weak drop my cheek shall stain, "Or tell what pa.s.ses here!

"Oh, let thy fate of others claim "A tear, a mournful sigh; "I'll only murmur thy dear name-- Call on my love--and die!"

But ah! how vain for words to tell The pang their bosoms prov'd; They only will conceive it well, They only, who have lov'd.

The timid muse forbears to say What laurels Edwin gain'd; How Albert long renown'd, that day His ancient fame maintain'd.

The bard, who feels congenial fire, May sing of martial strife; And with heroic sounds, inspire The gen'rous scorn of life;

But ill the theme would suit her reed, Who, wand'ring thro' the grove, Forgets the conq'ring hero's meed, And gives a tear to love.

Tho' long the closing day was fled, The fight they still maintain; While night a deeper horror shed Along the darken'd plain.