Her share in the pure freedom of that life,
Enjoyed by us in common. To my hope,
To my heart's wish, my tender Mate became
The thankful captive of maternal bonds
And those wild paths were left to me alone.
There could I meditate on follies past;
And, like a weary Voyager escaped
From risk and hardship, inwardly retrace
A course of vain delights and thoughtless guilt
And self-indulgence — without shame pursued.
There, undisturbed, could think of, and could thank
Her-whose submissive spirit was to me
Rule and restraint-my Guardian
shall I say
That earthly Providence, whose guiding love
Within a port of rest had lodged me safe;
Safe from temptation, and from danger far?
Strains followed of acknowledgment addressed
To an Authority enthroned above
The reach of sight; from whom, as from their source,
Proceed all visible ministers of good
That walk the earth Father of heaven and earth,
Father, and King, and Judge, adored and feared!
These acts of mind, and memory, and heart,
And spirit interrupted and relieved
By observations transient as the glance
Of flying sunbeams, or to the outward form
Cleaving with power inherent and intense,
As the mute insect fixed upon the plant
On whose soft leaves it hangs, and from whose cup
Draws imperceptibly its nourishment
Endeared my wanderings; and the Mother's kiss
And Infant's smile awaited my return.
"In privacy we dwelt a wedded pair Companions daily, often all day long;
Not placed by fortune within easy reach
Of various intercourse, nor wishing aught
Beyond the allowance of our own fire-side,
The Twain within our happy cottage born,
Inmates, and heirs of our united love;
Graced mutually by difference of sex,
By the endearing names of nature bound,
And with no wider interval of time
Between their several births than served for One
To establish something of a leader's sway;
Yet left them joined by sympathy in age;
Equals in pleasure, fellows in pursuit.
On these two pillars rested as in air
Our solitude.
"It soothes me to perceive,
Your courtesy withholds not from my words
Attentive audience. But, oh! gentle Frien is,
As times of quiet and unbroken peace
Though, for a Nation, times of blessedness,
Give back faint echoes from the Historian's page;
So, in the imperfect sounds of this discourse,
Depressed I hear, how faithless is the voice
Which those most blissful days reverberate.
What special record can, or need, be given
To rules and habits, whereby much was done,
But all within the sphere of little things,
Of humble, though, to us, important cares,
And precious interests? Smoothly did our life
Advance, not swerving from the path prescribed,
Her annual, her diurnal round alike
Maintained with faithful care. And you divine
The worst effects that our condition saw,
If you imagine changes slowly wrought,
And in their progress imperceptible;
Not wished for, sometimes noticed with a sigh,
(Whate'er of good or lovely they might bring)
Sighs of regret, for the familiar good,
And loveliness endeared-which they removed.
"Seven years of occupation undisturbed
Established seemingly a right to hold
That happiness; and use and habit gave
To what an alien spirit had acquired
A patrimonial sanctity. And thus,
With thoughts and wishes bounded to this world,
I lived and breathed; most grateful, if to enjoy
Without repining or desire for more
For different lot, or change to higher sphere
(Only except some impulses of pride
With no determined object, though upheld
By theories with suitable support)
Most grateful, if in such wise to enjoy
Be proof of gratitude for what we have;
Else, I allow, most thankless. But, at once,
From some dark seat of fatal Power was urged
A claim that shattered all. Our blooming Girl,
Caught in the gripe of Death, with such brief time
To struggle in as scarcely would allow
Her cheek to change its color, was conveyed
From us to regions inaccessible,
Where height, or depth, admits not the approach
Of living Man, though longing to pursue.
- With even as brief a warning
With what short interval of time between,
I tremble yet to think of our last prop,
Our happy life's only remaining stay-
The Brother followed; and was seen no more!
"Calm as a frozen Lake when ruthless Winds
Blow fiercely, agitating earth and sky,
The Mother now remained; as if in her,
Who, to the lowest region of the soul,
Had been erewhile unsettled and disturbed,
This second visitation had no power
To shake; but only to bind up and seal;
And to establish thankfulness of heart
In Heaven's determinations, ever just.
The eminence on which her spirit stood,
Mine was unable to attain. Immense
The space that severed us! But, as the sight
Communicates with Heaven's ethereal orbs
Incalculably distant; so, I felt
That consolation may descend from far;
(And, that is intercourse, and union, too,)
While, overcome with speechless gratitude,
And, with a holier love inspired, I looked
On her at once superior to my woes,
And Partner of my loss. O, heavy change!
Dimness o'er this clear Luminary crept
Insensibly; the immortal and divine
Yielded to mortal reflux; her pure Glory,
As from the pinnacle of worldly state
Wretched Ambition drops astounded, fell
Into a gulf obscure of silent grief,
And keen heart-anguish of itself ashamed,
Yet obstinately cherishing itself:
And, so consumed, She melted from my arms,
And left me, on this earth, disconsolate.
'What followed cannot be reviewed in thought;
Much less, retraced in words. If She, of life
Blameless, so intimate with love and joy,
And all the tender motions of the Soul,
Had been supplanted, could I hope to stand
Infirm, dependent, and now destitute?
I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veiled from waking thought; conjured Eternity, as men constrain a Ghost
To appear and answer; to the grave I spake
looked up, and asked the Heavens
If Angels traversed their cerulean floors,
If fixed or wandering Star could tidings yield
Of the departed Spirit what Abode
It occupies what consciousness retains
Of former loves and interests. Then my Soul
Turned inward, to examine of what stuff
Time's fetters are composed; and Life was put
To inquisition, long and profitless!
By pain of heart now checked - and now impelled -
The intellectual Power, through words and things,
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!
And from those transports, and these toils abstruse, Some trace am I enabled to retain
Only by records in myself not found.
"From that abstraction I was roused, — and how? Even as a thoughtful Shepherd by a flash
Of lightning startled in a gloomy cave
Of these wild hills. For, lo! the dread Bastile
With all the chambers in its horrid Towers,
Fell to the ground-by violence o'erthrown
Of indignation; and with shouts that drowned
The crash it made in falling! From the wreck
A golden Palace rose, or seemed to rise,
The appointed Seat of equitable Law
And mild paternal Sway. The potent shock
I felt the transformation I perceived,
As marvellously seized as in that moment
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