FRANCES
She will not sleep, for fear of dreams, But, rising, quits her restless bed, And walks where some beclouded beams Of moonlight through the hall are shed.
Obedient to the goad1 of grief, Her steps, now fast, now lingering slow, In varying motion seek relief From the Eumenides of woe2.
Wringing3 her hands, at intervals—— But long as mute as phantom4 dim-She glides5 along the dusky walls, Under the black oak rafters grim.
The close air of the grated tower Stifles6 a heart that scarce can beat, And, though so late and lone7 the hour, Forth8 pass her wandering, faltering9 feet；
And on the pavement spread before The long front of the mansion10 grey, Her steps imprint11 the night-frost hoar, Which pale on grass and granite12 lay.
Not long she stayed where misty13 moon And shimmering14 stars could on her look, But through the garden archway soon Her strange and gloomy path she took.
Some firs, coeval15 with the tower, Their straight black boughs16 stretched o'er her head； Unseen, beneath this sable18 bower19, Rustled20 her dress and rapid tread. There was an alcove21 in that shade, Screening a rustic22 seat and stand； Weary she sat her down, and laid Her hot brow on her burning hand.
To solitude23 and to the night, Some words she now, in murmurs24, said； And trickling25 through her fingers white, Some tears of misery26 she shed.
"God help me in my grievous need, God help me in my inward pain； Which cannot ask for pity's meed, Which has no licence to complain,
"Which must be borne； yet who can bear, Hours long, days long, a constant weight—— The yoke27 of absolute despair, A suffering wholly desolate28？
"Who can for ever crush the heart, Restrain its throbbing29, curb30 its life？ Dissemble truth with ceaseless art, With outward calm mask inward strife31？"
She waited——as for some reply； The still and cloudy night gave none； Ere long, with deep-drawn, trembling sigh, Her heavy plaint again begun.
"Unloved——I love； unwept——I weep； Grief I restrain——hope I repress： Vain is this anguish32——fixed33 and deep； Vainer, desires and dreams of bliss34.
"My love awakes no love again, My tears collect, and fall unfelt； My sorrow touches none with pain, My humble35 hopes to nothing melt.
"For me the universe is dumb, Stone-deaf, and blank, and wholly blind； Life I must bound, existence sum In the strait limits of one mind；
"That mind my own. Oh！ narrow cell； Dark——imageless——a living tomb！ There must I sleep, there wake and dwell Content, with palsy, pain, and gloom."
Again she paused； a moan of pain, A stifled36 sob37, alone was heard； Long silence followed——then again Her voice the stagnant38 midnight stirred.
"Must it be so？ Is this my fate？ Can I nor struggle, nor contend？ And am I doomed40 for years to wait, Watching death's lingering axe41 descend42？
"And when it falls, and when I die, What follows？ Vacant nothingness？ The blank of lost identity？ Erasure43 both of pain and bliss？
"I've heard of heaven——I would believe； For if this earth indeed be all, Who longest lives may deepest grieve； Most blest, whom sorrows soonest call.
"Oh！ leaving disappointment here, Will man find hope on yonder coast？ Hope, which, on earth, shines never clear, And oft in clouds is wholly lost.
"Will he hope's source of light behold44, Fruition's spring, where doubts expire, And drink, in waves of living gold, Contentment, full, for long desire？
"Will he find bliss, which here he dreamed？ Rest, which was weariness on earth？ Knowledge, which, if o'er life it beamed, Served but to prove it void of worth？
"Will he find love without lust's leaven45, Love fearless, tearless, perfect, pure, To all with equal bounty46 given； In all, unfeigned, unfailing, sure？
"Will he, from penal47 sufferings free, Released from shroud48 and wormy clod, All calm and glorious, rise and see Creation's Sire——Existence' God？
"Then, glancing back on Time's brief woes49, Will he behold them, fading, fly； Swept from Eternity's repose50, Like sullying cloud from pure blue sky？
"If so, endure, my weary frame； And when thy anguish strikes too deep, And when all troubled burns life's flame, Think of the quiet, final sleep；
"Think of the glorious waking-hour, Which will not dawn on grief and tears, But on a ransomed51 spirit's power, Certain, and free from mortal fears.
"Seek now thy couch, and lie till morn, Then from thy chamber52, calm, descend, With mind nor tossed, nor anguish-torn, But tranquil53, fixed, to wait the end.
"And when thy opening eyes shall see Mementos54, on the chamber wall, Of one who has forgotten thee, Shed not the tear of acrid55 gall56.
"The tear which, welling from the heart, Burns where its drop corrosive57 falls, And makes each nerve, in torture, start, At feelings it too well recalls：
"When the sweet hope of being loved Threw Eden sunshine on life's way： When every sense and feeling proved Expectancy58 of brightest day.
"When the hand trembled to receive A thrilling clasp, which seemed so near, And the heart ventured to believe Another heart esteemed59 it dear.
"When words, half love, all tenderness, Were hourly heard, as hourly spoken, When the long, sunny days of bliss Only by moonlight nights were broken.
"Till, drop by drop, the cup of joy Filled full, with purple light was glowing, And Faith, which watched it, sparkling high Still never dreamt the overflowing61.
"It fell not with a sudden crashing, It poured not out like open sluice62； No, sparkling still, and redly flashing, Drained, drop by drop, the generous juice.
"I saw it sink, and strove to taste it, My eager lips approached the brim； The movement only seemed to waste it； It sank to dregs, all harsh and dim.
"These I have drunk, and they for ever Have poisoned life and love for me； A draught63 from Sodom's lake could never More fiery64, salt, and bitter, be.
"Oh！ Love was all a thin illusion Joy, but the desert's flying stream； And glancing back on long delusion65, My memory grasps a hollow dream.
"Yet whence that wondrous66 change of feeling, I never knew, and cannot learn； Nor why my lover's eye, congealing67, Grew cold and clouded, proud and stern.
"Nor wherefore, friendship's forms forgetting, He careless left, and cool withdrew； Nor spoke60 of grief, nor fond regretting, Nor ev'n one glance of comfort threw.
"And neither word nor token sending, Of kindness, since the parting day, His course, for distant regions bending, Went, self-contained and calm, away.
"Oh, bitter, blighting68, keen sensation, Which will not weaken, cannot die, Hasten thy work of desolation, And let my tortured spirit fly！
"Vain as the passing gale69, my crying； Though lightning-struck, I must live on； I know, at heart, there is no dying Of love, and ruined hope, alone.
"Still strong and young, and warm with vigour70, Though scathed71, I long shall greenly grow； And many a storm of wildest rigour Shall yet break o'er my shivered bough17.
"Rebellious72 now to blank inertion, My unused strength demands a task； Travel, and toil73, and full exertion74, Are the last, only boon75 I ask.
"Whence, then, this vain and barren dreaming Of death, and dubious76 life to come？ I see a nearer beacon77 gleaming Over dejection's sea of gloom.
"The very wildness of my sorrow Tells me I yet have innate78 force； My track of life has been too narrow, Effort shall trace a broader course.
"The world is not in yonder tower, Earth is not prisoned in that room, 'Mid39 whose dark panels, hour by hour, I've sat, the slave and prey79 of gloom.
"One feeling——turned to utter anguish, Is not my being's only aim； When, lorn and loveless, life will languish80, But courage can revive the flame.
"He, when he left me, went a roving To sunny climes, beyond the sea； And I, the weight of woe removing, Am free and fetterless as he.
"New scenes, new language, skies less clouded, May once more wake the wish to live； Strange, foreign towns, astir, and crowded, New pictures to the mind may give.
"New forms and faces, passing ever, May hide the one I still retain, Defined, and fixed, and fading never, Stamped deep on vision, heart, and brain.
"And we might meet——time may have changed him； Chance may reveal the mystery, The secret influence which estranged81 him； Love may restore him yet to me.
"False thought——false hope——in scorn be banished82！ I am not loved——nor loved have been； Recall not, then, the dreams scarce vanished； Traitors83！ mislead me not again！
"To words like yours I bid defiance84, 'Tis such my mental wreck85 have made； Of God alone, and self-reliance, I ask for solace——hope for aid.
"Morn comes——and ere meridian86 glory O'er these, my natal87 woods, shall smile, Both lonely wood and mansion hoary88 I'll leave behind, full many a mile."
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