The Death-Wake Part 3

But when the brow is blighted, like a star of morning tide, And faded is the crimson blush upon the cheek beside; It is to love, as seldom love, the brightest and the best, When our love lies like a dew upon the one that is at rest.

Because of hopes, that, fallen, are changing to despair, And the heart is always dreaming on the ruin that is there, Oh, true! 'tis weary, weary, to be gazing over thee, And the light of thy pure vision breaketh never upon me!

He lifts her in his arms, and o'er and o'er, Upon the brow of chilliness and h.o.a.r, Repeats a silent kiss;--along the side Of the lone bark, he leans that pallid bride, Until the waves do image her within Their bosom, like a spectre--'Tis a sin Too deadly to be shadow'd or forgiven, To do such mockery in the sight of Heaven!

And bid her gaze into the startled sea, And say, "Thy image, from eternity, Hath come to meet thee, ladye!" and anon, He bade the cold corse kiss the shadowy one, That shook amid the waters, like the light Of borealis in a winter night!

And after, he did strain her sea-wet hair Between his chilly fingers, with a stare Of mystery, that marvell'd how that she Had drench'd it so amid the moonlit sea.

The morning rose, with breast of living gold, Like eastern phoenix, and his plumage roll'd In clouds of molted brilliance, very bright!

And on the waste of waters floated light.--

In truth, 'twas strange to see that merry bark Skimming the silver ocean, like a shark At play amid the beautiful sea-green, And all so sadly desolate within.

And hours flew after hours, a weary length, Until the sunlight, in meridian strength, Threw burning floods upon the wasted brow Of that sea-hermit mariner; and now He felt the fire-light feed upon his brain, And started with intensity of pain, And wash'd him in the sea; it only brought Wild reason, like a demon, and he thought Strange thoughts, like dreaming men--he thought how those Were round him he had seen, and many rose His heart had hated; every billow threw Features before him, and pale faces grew Out of the sea by myriads:--the self-same Was moulded from its image, and they came In groups together, and all said, like one, "Be cursed!" and vanish'd in the deep anon.

Then thirst, intolerable as the breath Of Upas, fanning the wild wings of death, Crept up his very gorge,--like to a snake, That stifled him, and bade the pulses ache Through all the boiling current of his blood.

It was a thirst, that let the fever flood Fall over him, and gave a ghastly hue To his cramp'd lips, until their breathing grew White as a mist, and short, and like a sigh, Heaved with a struggle, till it falter'd by.

And ever he did look upon the corse With idiot visage, like the hag Remorse That gloateth over on a nameless deed Of darkness and of dole unhistoried.

And were there that might hear him, they would hear The murmur of a prayer in deep fear, Through unbarr'd lips, escaping by the half, And all but smother'd by a maniac laugh, That follow'd it, so sudden and so shrill, That swarms of sea-birds, wandering at will Upon the wave, rose startled, and away Went flocking, like a silver shower of spray!

And aye he called for water, and the sea Mock'd him with his brine surges tauntingly, And lash'd them over on his fev'rous brow, Volleying roars of curses:--"Stay thee, now, Avenger! lest I die; for I am worn Fainter than star-light at the birth of morn; Stay thee, great angel! for I am not shriven, But frantic as thyself: Oh Heaven! Heaven!

But thou hast made me brother of the sea, That I may tremble at his tyranny; Or am I slave? a very, very jest To the sarcastic waters? let me breast The base insulters, and defy them so, In this lone little skiff--I am your foe!

Ye raving, lion-like, and ramping seas, That open up your nostrils to the breeze, And fain would swallow me! Do ye not fly, Pale, sick, and gurgling, as I pa.s.s you by?"

"Lift up! and let me see, that I may tell Ye can be mad, and strange, and terrible; That ye have power, and pa.s.sion, and a sound As of the flying of an angel round The mighty world; that ye are one with time, And in the great primordium sublime Were nursed together, as an infant-twain,-- A glory and a wonder! I would fain Hold truce, thou elder brother! for we are, In feature, as the sun is to a star, So are we like, and we are touch'd in tune With lunacy as music; and the moon, That setteth the tides sentinel before Thy camp of waters, on the pebbled sh.o.r.e, And measures their great footsteps to and fro, Hath lifted up into my brain the flow Of this mad tide of blood.--Ay! we are like In foam and frenzy; the same winds do strike, The same fierce sun-rays, from their battlement Of fire! so, when I perish impotent Before the night of death, they'll say of me, He died as mad and frantic, as the sea!"

A cloud stood for the east, a cloud like night, Like a huge vulture, and the blessed light Of the great sun grew shadow'd awfully: It seem'd to mount up from the mighty sea, Shaking the showers from its solemn wings, And grew, and grew, and many a myriad springs, Were on its bosom, teeming full of rain.

There fell a terrible and wizard chain Of lightning, from its black and heated forge, And the dark waters took it to their gorge, And lifted up their s.h.a.ggy flanks in wonder With rival chorus to the peal of thunder, That wheel'd in many a squadron terrible The stern black clouds, and as they rose and fell They oozed great showers; and Julio held up His wasted hands, in likeness of a cup, And drank the blessed waters, and they roll'd Upon his cheeks like tears, but sadly cold!-- 'Twas very strange to look on Agathe!

How the quick lightnings, in their elfin play, Stream'd pale upon her features, and they were Sickly, like tapers in a sepulchre!

The s.h.i.+p! that self same s.h.i.+p, that Julio knew Had pa.s.s'd him, with her panic-stricken crew, She gleams amid the storm, a shatter'd thing Of pride and lordly beauty: her fair wing Of sail is wounded--the proud pennon gone: Dark, dark she sweepeth like an eagle, on Through waters that are battling to and fro, And tossing their great giant shrouds of snow Over her deck. Ahead, and there is seen A black, strange line of breakers, down between The awful surges, lifting up their manes, Like great sea lions. Quick and high she strains Her foaming keel--that solitary s.h.i.+p!

As if, in all her frenzy, she would leap The cursed barrier; forward, fast and fast-- Back, back she reels; her timbers and her mast Split in a thousand s.h.i.+vers! A white spring Of the exulted sea rose bantering Over her ruin; and the mighty crew, That mann'd her decks, were seen, a straggling few, Far scatter'd on the surges. Julio felt The impulse of that hour, and low he knelt, Within his own light bark--a prayful man!

And clasp'd his lifeless bride; and to her wan, Cold cheek did lay his melancholy brow.-- "Save thou a mariner!" He starteth now To hear that dying cry; and there is one, All worn and wave-wet, by his bark anon, Clinging, in terror of the ireful sea, A fair hair'd mariner! But suddenly He saw the pale dead ladye, by a flame Of blue and livid lightning, and there came Over his features blindness, and the power Of his strong hands grew weak,--a giant shower Of foam rose up, and swept him far along; And Julio saw him buffeting the throng Of the great eddying waters, till they went Over him--a wind-shaken cerement!

Then terribly he laugh'd, and rose above His soul-less bride--the ladye of his love Lifting him up, in all his wizard glee; And he did wave, before the frantic sea, His wasted arm. "Adieu! adieu! adieu!

Thou sawest how we were; thou sawest, too, Thou wert not so; for in the inmost shrine Of my deep heart are thoughts that are not thine.

And thou art gone, fair mariner! in foam And music-murmurs, to thy blessed home-- Adieu! adieu! Thou sawest how that she Sleeps in her holy beauty, tranquilly; And when the fair and floating vision breaks From her pure brow, and Agathe awakes-- Till then, we meet not; so adieu, adieu!"

Still on before the sullen tempest flew, Fast as a meteor star, the lonely bark: And Julio bent over to the dark, The solitary sea, for close beside Floated the stringed harp of one that died In that wild s.h.i.+pwreck, and he drew it home, With madness, to his bosom: the white foam Was o'er its strings; and on the streaming sail He wiped them, running, with his fingers pale, Along the tuneless notes, that only gave Seldom responses to his wandering stave!

TO THE HARP

I

Jewel! that lay before the heart Of some romantic boy, And startled music in her home, Of mystery and joy!

II

The image of his love was there; And, with her golden wings, She swept her tone of sorrow from Thy melancholy strings!

III

We drew thee, as an orphan one, From waters that had cast No music round thee, as they went In their pale beauty past.

IV

No music but the changeless sigh-- That murmur of their own, That loves not blending in the thrill Of thine aerial tone.

V

The girl that slumbers at our side Will dream how they are bent, That love her even as they love Thy blessed instrument.

VI

And music, like a flood, will break Upon the fairy throne Of her pure heart, all glowing, like A morning star, alone!

VII

Alone, but for the song of him That waketh by her side, And strikes thy chords of silver to His fair and sea-borne bride.

VIII

Jewel! that hung before the heart Of some romantic boy; Like him, I sweep thee with a storm Of music and of joy!

And Julio placed the trembling harp before The ladye, till the minstrel winds came o'er Its moisten'd strings, and tuned them with a sigh.

"I hear thee, how thy spirit goeth by, In music and in love. Oh Agathe!

Thou sleepest long, long, long; and they will say That seek thee,--'She is dead--she is no more!'

But thou art cold, and I will throw before Thy chilly brow the pale and snowy sheet."

And he did lift it from her marble feet, The sea-wet shroud! and flung it silently Over her brow--the brow of Agathe!

But, as a pa.s.sion from the mooded mind, The storm had died, and wearily the wind Fell fast asleep at evening, like one That hath been toiling in the fiery sun.

And the white sail dropt downward, as the wing Of wounded sea-bird, feebly murmuring Unto the mast. It was a deathly calm, And holy stillness, like a shadow, swam All over the wide sea, and the boat stood.

Like her of Sodom, in the solitude, A snowy pillar, looking on the waste.

And there was nothing but the azure breast Of ocean and the sky--the sea and sky, And the lone bark; no clouds were floating by Where the sun set, but his great seraph light, Went down alone, in majesty and might; And the stars came again, a silver troop, Until, in shame, the coward shadows droop Before the radiance of these holy gems, That bear the images of diadems!

And Julio fancied of a form that rose Before him from the desolate repose Of the deep waters--a huge ghastly form, As of one lightning-stricken in a storm; And leprosy cadaverous was hung Before his brow, and awful terror flung Around him like a pall--a solemn shroud!-- A drapery of darkness and of cloud!

And agony was writhing on his lip, Heart-rooted, awful agony and deep, Of fevers, and of plagues, and burning blain, And ague, and the palsy of the brain-- A wierd and yellow spectre! And his eyes Were orbless and unpupil'd, as the skies Without the sun, or moon, or any star: And he was like the wreck of what men are,-- A wasted skeleton, that held the crest Of Time, and bore his motto on his breast!

There came a group before of maladies, And griefs, and Famine empty as a breeze,-- A double monster, with a gloating leer Fix'd on his other half. They drew them near, One after one, led onward by Despair, That like the last of winter glimmer'd there,-- A dismal prologue to his brother Death, Which was behind, and, with the horrid breath Of his wide baneful nostrils, plied them on.

And often as they saw the skeleton Grisly beside them, the wild phantasies Grew mad and howl'd; the fever of disease Became wild frenzy--very terrible!