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IND solace in a dying hour !
Such, father, is not (now) my theme I will not madly deem that power
Of Earth may shrive me of the sin
Unearthly pride hath revell'd in-
Its fount is holier — more divine-
But such is not a gift of thinę. Know thou the secret of a spirit
Bow'd from its wild pride into shame.
Thy withering portion with the fame,
I have not always been as now :
I claim'd and won usurpingly
The heritage of a kingly mind,
Triumphantly with human kind.
The mists of the Taglay have shed
('Mid dreams of an unholy night) Upon me with the touch of Hell,
While the red flashing of the light
Appeared to my half-closing eye
The pageantry of monarchy,
Of human battle, where my voice,
(O! how my spirit would rejoice,
The rain came down upon my head
Unshelter'd — and the heavy wind
Rendered me mad and deaf and blind. It was but man, I thought, who shed
Laurels upon me: and the rush The torrent of the chilly air Gurgled within my car the crush
Of empires — with the captive's prayer — The hum of suitors and the tone Of flattery 'round a sovereign's throne. My passions, from that hapless hour,
Usurp'd a tyranny which men Have deem'd, since I have reach'd to power, My innate nature
- be it so : But, father, there liv'd one who, then, Then - in my boyhood — when their fire
Burn'd with a still intenser glow
E'en then who knew this iron heart
I have no words -alas! to tell
Thus I remember having dwelt
Some page of early lore upon, With loitering eye, till I have felt The letters — with their meaning - melt
To fantasies — with none.
O, she was worthy of all love !
Love — as in infancy was mine ’T was such as angel minds above
Might envy; her young heart the shrine On which my every hope and thought Were incense - then a goodly gift,
For they were childish and upright Pure – as her young example taught: Why did I leave it, and, adrift,
Trust to the fire within, for light?
age - and love — together Roaming the forest and the wild ; My breast her shield in wintry weather
And when the friendly sunshine smild, And she would mark the opening skies, I saw no Heaven
- but in her eyes.
Young Love's first lesson is the heart :
For 'mid that sunshine, and those smiles, When, from our little cares apart,
And laughing at her girlish wiles,
I'd throw me on her throbbing breast,
And pour my spirit out in tears -
No need to quiet any fears
Yet more than worthy of the love
The world, and all it did contain
Its joy - its little lot of pain That was new pleasure - the ideal,
Dim vanities of dreams by night And dimmer nothings which were real
(Shadows — and a more shadowy light!) Parted upon their misty wings,
And so, confusedly, became
Thine image and a name - a name ! Two separate
yet most intimate things. I was ambitious — have you known
The passion, father? You have not: A cottager, I mark'd a throne Of half the world as all my own,