Poems (Griffith)/The Lovers' Last Meeting
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The Lovers' Last Meeting.
IT was a calm, still, Sabbath eve—no breeze
Went o'er the sleeping flowers, no murmured sound,
From Nature's harp of many voices, rose
Upon the deep and strange serenity
Of the lone death of day. The Lovers met
In the sweet silence of that holy eve,
Once more upon the old, familiar spot
Of love's dear tryst. Dark months had passed away
Since they had gazed together on that scene
Of deepest, keenest raptures. That young girl,
Even in her girlhood's rip cuing flush, seethed old,
And worn in soul. Her pale and withering cheek
Told to the heart the tale of many a wild,
Fierce struggle of a spirit unsubdued.
Her dark eyes gleamed with the intensity
Of strange, unspoken griefs, and in their calm,
Mysterious fixedness there seemed a high,
And deep, and stern resolve, as though her heart
Of iron pride might never quail beneath
Life's fiercest storms. Yet when she turned those orbs
To his, a gentle, melancholy smile
Played round their lids, and quivering tear-drops hung,
Like the bright gems of dewy morning, o'er
Their dark and stormy depths.
Went o'er the sleeping flowers, no murmured sound,
From Nature's harp of many voices, rose
Upon the deep and strange serenity
Of the lone death of day. The Lovers met
In the sweet silence of that holy eve,
Once more upon the old, familiar spot
Of love's dear tryst. Dark months had passed away
Since they had gazed together on that scene
Of deepest, keenest raptures. That young girl,
Even in her girlhood's rip cuing flush, seethed old,
And worn in soul. Her pale and withering cheek
Told to the heart the tale of many a wild,
Fierce struggle of a spirit unsubdued.
Her dark eyes gleamed with the intensity
Of strange, unspoken griefs, and in their calm,
Mysterious fixedness there seemed a high,
And deep, and stern resolve, as though her heart
Of iron pride might never quail beneath
Life's fiercest storms. Yet when she turned those orbs
To his, a gentle, melancholy smile
Played round their lids, and quivering tear-drops hung,
Like the bright gems of dewy morning, o'er
Their dark and stormy depths.
And he on whom
Her glance of love fell, piercing his deep soul,
His soul of strong and manly daring, stood
All tearfully beside her, and his arm
Around her slender form was wildly flung,
Love's living, burning cestus; and her head,
With all its clustering wealth of raven curls,
Drooped to his heaving bosom, as a dove,
Weary and broken wing'd, sinks to its own
Dear parent nest. Her little trembling hand
Was clasped within his own, her upturned eye
Met his, and drank again the heavenly bliss
Of dear and sweet reunion. On each pale
And stricken brow the darkness of deep
And solemn shadow rested, and each cheek
And lip seemed chilled with sorrow's withering frost.
Though summer, autumn, winter, spring had passed
Again and yet again since they had met,
They gazed into each other's hearts and read
No change in those deep founts of burning love.
There no dark raven-wing had brooded—each
Had e'er embalmed with love's pure incense-breath
The image of the other. They had vowed
And kept their holy truth, end now their love
Was all undimed, though grief had almost crushed
The life from out their souls.
Her glance of love fell, piercing his deep soul,
His soul of strong and manly daring, stood
All tearfully beside her, and his arm
Around her slender form was wildly flung,
Love's living, burning cestus; and her head,
With all its clustering wealth of raven curls,
Drooped to his heaving bosom, as a dove,
Weary and broken wing'd, sinks to its own
Dear parent nest. Her little trembling hand
Was clasped within his own, her upturned eye
Met his, and drank again the heavenly bliss
Of dear and sweet reunion. On each pale
And stricken brow the darkness of deep
And solemn shadow rested, and each cheek
And lip seemed chilled with sorrow's withering frost.
Though summer, autumn, winter, spring had passed
Again and yet again since they had met,
They gazed into each other's hearts and read
No change in those deep founts of burning love.
There no dark raven-wing had brooded—each
Had e'er embalmed with love's pure incense-breath
The image of the other. They had vowed
And kept their holy truth, end now their love
Was all undimed, though grief had almost crushed
The life from out their souls.
The sweet rich glow
Of the soft twilight lent its passion-hue
Of crimson to her temples, or perchance
It may have been the deep reflection caught
From the wild burning thoughts that raged within
Her shut and silent heart. She did not look
Upon the many flowers, she did not hear
The music of the stream—the fairy tints
Of sunset, the green surging of the woods,
The mildly-wooing zephyrs, and the tones,
The thousand deep tones of the holy hour,
All were unheeded then. Her eyes, her ears,
Her thoughts, her soul, her life, were but for him.
She leaned upon him with that touching trust
And holy confidence a saint would feel
In leaning upon heaven. And she to him
Was all that mortal creature e'er could be
To a proud child of earth. With lip to lip,
And heart quick-throbbing to its throbbing mate,
They stood in love's bewildering embrace,
Silently clasping in their straining arms
All that they knew of heaven on earth. And then
They heeded not the passing of the hours,
They saw not sunset's glorious roses fade
Within the west's sky-garden, they but felt
They loved and were supremely blest.
Of the soft twilight lent its passion-hue
Of crimson to her temples, or perchance
It may have been the deep reflection caught
From the wild burning thoughts that raged within
Her shut and silent heart. She did not look
Upon the many flowers, she did not hear
The music of the stream—the fairy tints
Of sunset, the green surging of the woods,
The mildly-wooing zephyrs, and the tones,
The thousand deep tones of the holy hour,
All were unheeded then. Her eyes, her ears,
Her thoughts, her soul, her life, were but for him.
She leaned upon him with that touching trust
And holy confidence a saint would feel
In leaning upon heaven. And she to him
Was all that mortal creature e'er could be
To a proud child of earth. With lip to lip,
And heart quick-throbbing to its throbbing mate,
They stood in love's bewildering embrace,
Silently clasping in their straining arms
All that they knew of heaven on earth. And then
They heeded not the passing of the hours,
They saw not sunset's glorious roses fade
Within the west's sky-garden, they but felt
They loved and were supremely blest.
At length
The thought that they must part stole on their souls
Like the deep shadow of a thunder-cloud.
She strove to drive that fearful thought away,
But there it stood, a fiend between her soul
And her bright heaven of joy. Beneath the weight
Of her great grief, her head sank down, as bends
The lily's pale and broken cup beneath
The torrents of the cloud. And then with low,
Sweet tones of tenderness, though his own heart
Was bursting with its stifled rush of tears,
He soothed her fearful agony. He spoke
Of joys and raptures past but treasured still
In memory's sacred chambers, of the hope
That even then seemed shining with a dim
And pale but beauteous gleam upon the waves
Of the far distant future. Thus he won
Her spirit from its dark and crushing grief,
And bade her turn her thoughts from earth, and look
Above life's clouds for perfect happiness
Within the skies. He told her how they two
Would wander there, twin-spirits, hand in hand,
Beside the lovely Eden streams that glass
The blessed rainbow skies, how they would cull
The sweetest blossoms glowing with the dews
Of heaven, and twine them into beauteous wreaths,
Dear love-wreaths, for each other's foreheads; how
They oft would fly upon their spirit-wings
From star to star, to read the beautiful
And blazing mysteries of the sky, and how
They would at times come down from heaven to earth
To sit beside each other on the dear
And blessed spot where then they sat, and muse
On all the raptures shared together there,
And breathe again the vows so often breathed
In life from their deep hearts of love, and make
That scene the tryst of their pure souls in heaven
As 'twas their tryst upon the earth.
The thought that they must part stole on their souls
Like the deep shadow of a thunder-cloud.
She strove to drive that fearful thought away,
But there it stood, a fiend between her soul
And her bright heaven of joy. Beneath the weight
Of her great grief, her head sank down, as bends
The lily's pale and broken cup beneath
The torrents of the cloud. And then with low,
Sweet tones of tenderness, though his own heart
Was bursting with its stifled rush of tears,
He soothed her fearful agony. He spoke
Of joys and raptures past but treasured still
In memory's sacred chambers, of the hope
That even then seemed shining with a dim
And pale but beauteous gleam upon the waves
Of the far distant future. Thus he won
Her spirit from its dark and crushing grief,
And bade her turn her thoughts from earth, and look
Above life's clouds for perfect happiness
Within the skies. He told her how they two
Would wander there, twin-spirits, hand in hand,
Beside the lovely Eden streams that glass
The blessed rainbow skies, how they would cull
The sweetest blossoms glowing with the dews
Of heaven, and twine them into beauteous wreaths,
Dear love-wreaths, for each other's foreheads; how
They oft would fly upon their spirit-wings
From star to star, to read the beautiful
And blazing mysteries of the sky, and how
They would at times come down from heaven to earth
To sit beside each other on the dear
And blessed spot where then they sat, and muse
On all the raptures shared together there,
And breathe again the vows so often breathed
In life from their deep hearts of love, and make
That scene the tryst of their pure souls in heaven
As 'twas their tryst upon the earth.
But though
By soft and low and gentle words like these,
Breathed in the rich tones that first won her love,
He calmed the fiery lava-flood that raged
Within her tortured heart, he could not soothe
The agony that burned within his own.
His soul was strong and haughty. He could bear
The cold world's bitter hate, he faltered not
At "foaming calumny," he did not heed
The piercing blasts of poverty, but when,
At that sad hour, he fixed his eyes on her,
His bright though fading flower, and thought how she
Would pine in his drear absence from her side,
And saw that her young morning-tide of life
Was ebbing fast away, Oh then his heart,
His high, proud heart, sank in his manly breast,
His naughty spirit trembled, and a strong
Convulsion shook his features, and the drops
Of agony welled upward from a fount
Long sealed within his bosom, and he wept
As if his heart were broken. And her tears
Gushed forth to blend with his, and thus they wept
Together long and wildly.
By soft and low and gentle words like these,
Breathed in the rich tones that first won her love,
He calmed the fiery lava-flood that raged
Within her tortured heart, he could not soothe
The agony that burned within his own.
His soul was strong and haughty. He could bear
The cold world's bitter hate, he faltered not
At "foaming calumny," he did not heed
The piercing blasts of poverty, but when,
At that sad hour, he fixed his eyes on her,
His bright though fading flower, and thought how she
Would pine in his drear absence from her side,
And saw that her young morning-tide of life
Was ebbing fast away, Oh then his heart,
His high, proud heart, sank in his manly breast,
His naughty spirit trembled, and a strong
Convulsion shook his features, and the drops
Of agony welled upward from a fount
Long sealed within his bosom, and he wept
As if his heart were broken. And her tears
Gushed forth to blend with his, and thus they wept
Together long and wildly.
On their ears
Now stole the deep tones of the vesper bell,
As mournfully as if it had been tolled
For some dear friend. It woke them from their trance
Of paralyzing grief, it pealed and rang
Far through the echoing chambers of their souls,
And told them with its mocking cadences
That 'twas the hour, the moment, they must part.
All silently, but for one death-like groan,
He strained her to his bosom, on her brow
He breathed his passion-kisses till it seemed
As if each trembling blood-drop in her frame
Rushed up to share the maddening embrace—
Then with one low, deep, passionate farewell,
That sounded as if uttered by his soul
Through still, unbreathing lips, they parted.
Now stole the deep tones of the vesper bell,
As mournfully as if it had been tolled
For some dear friend. It woke them from their trance
Of paralyzing grief, it pealed and rang
Far through the echoing chambers of their souls,
And told them with its mocking cadences
That 'twas the hour, the moment, they must part.
All silently, but for one death-like groan,
He strained her to his bosom, on her brow
He breathed his passion-kisses till it seemed
As if each trembling blood-drop in her frame
Rushed up to share the maddening embrace—
Then with one low, deep, passionate farewell,
That sounded as if uttered by his soul
Through still, unbreathing lips, they parted.
She,
Pale, faint, and weak, with faltering footsteps sought
Her chamber's silent solitude, to pour
Her sad soul forth in earnest prayer to God
For strength to quell the fierce, rebellious thoughts
That seemed for ever sweeping like a tide
Of burning waters o'er her heart. He sought
The forest's deeper silence, there to hold
Through the still night communion with his soul,
And her, and heaven; and, when the morning came,
He went with sickening heart and aching brow
Once more into the toiling world of men,
To struggle with his bitter destiny.
Pale, faint, and weak, with faltering footsteps sought
Her chamber's silent solitude, to pour
Her sad soul forth in earnest prayer to God
For strength to quell the fierce, rebellious thoughts
That seemed for ever sweeping like a tide
Of burning waters o'er her heart. He sought
The forest's deeper silence, there to hold
Through the still night communion with his soul,
And her, and heaven; and, when the morning came,
He went with sickening heart and aching brow
Once more into the toiling world of men,
To struggle with his bitter destiny.
'Twas their last parting—a brief year passed by,
And lo! a pitying angel came from Heaven
And joined their fates forever. 'Twas the kind
Death-angel—they are all each other's now.
And lo! a pitying angel came from Heaven
And joined their fates forever. 'Twas the kind
Death-angel—they are all each other's now.