LIBRARY DF CONGRESS. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI 
 
 A POEM 
 
 BY A. S. H.xaZ^ . 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1878. 
 

 Copyright, 1878, by J. B. Lll'PlNCOTT & Co. 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 I. 
 
 \ WESTERN shore and marshy plain between, 
 Girt by a crumbling wall, a city stands 
 Alone. Men say there was none other seen 
 So joyous or so fair, in all those lands. 
 When decked as for a bride by royal hands, 
 Her excellence was as some jewel rare, 
 That many crowns had coveted to wear. 
 
A FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Like to a brilliant bound about her brow, 
 Upon the darkening waters blazed her light, 
 
 For those who watched about the spray-wet brow, 
 To catch its distant flashings through the night ; 
 Or safe within her circling arms, the white 
 
 Ships slept with folded wings, a happy hour 
 
 At rest from baffling winds and Thetis' power. 
 
 But drifting sands have shut her from the sea. 
 
 Whose murmuring waters washed erstwhile her 
 feet, 
 
 And cool dim woods are stirred with melody 
 Of birds, that flit and call, and answer sweet 
 From moss-hid nests, where wrathful surges beat 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Before, and sea-birds, circling slantingwise, 
 Dipped down the yellow surf with shrilly cries. 
 
 Forgotten now of emperor and king, — 
 Yet as the incense o'er the altar waits, 
 
 Though long ago the censer ceased to swing, — 
 A legendary light illuminates 
 Her silent palaces, whose empty gates, 
 
 Forsaken of their guests, no hand again 
 
 Shall ever ope to sun or bar to rain. 
 
 And save that shrine of him, the bard divine, 
 No good thing tempts the pilgrim's wandering 
 way 
 
FRANCESCA 01' RIMINI. 
 
 Within her narrow streets ; no longer shine 
 The lights of midnight revel, — all the gay 
 And happy songs are dead upon her gray 
 Still lips, that fortune, fickle lover, oft 
 In other days had thrilled with kisses soft. 
 
 Nor aught is heard of music in her streets, 
 Save here perchance a maiden singing o'er 
 
 Her work : the pulse of life responsive beats 
 No more to stirring sounds of peace or war, 
 For this the peace that dwells within hei 
 door 
 
 Is that which hovers o'er the chilling clay 
 
 Ere yet the spirit passeth quite away. 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 7 
 
 II. 
 
 Now in that long gone time of which men tell, 
 Within a smiling chamber, where the rays 
 
 Of loving suns last lingered and first fell, 
 
 A maiden stands, and looks with dreamy gaze 
 Across the sunclad sea, and level lays, 
 
 That stretch beneath the lattice window wide, 
 
 In the still sleep of summer eventide. 
 
 Nor sees the purple haze upon the height, 
 
 The curved-horned cattle browsing on the downs, 
 
 The slim acacia-hedges, flowering white 
 
 In slender lines between the gray-walled towns, 
 The grain-fields gilding their tiara crowns 
 
3 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Where first the river, winding wearily, 
 Tastes the salt kisses of the waiting sea. 
 
 Her wide soft eyes looked out beyond the rim 
 Of hill and sea, as to some far land green 
 
 With spring, where, revery leading, made them 
 dim 
 With happy tears too shy to fall, or e'en 
 Some wondrous note of sweetness unforeseen 
 
 Had wakened in the heart that, half afraid. 
 
 Enraptured heard the song itself had made. 
 
 And dreaming still, till all the mellow flood 
 Of color touched and vanished as a cry 
 
FRAKCESCA OF RFMINI. 9 
 
 Beyond the vineyard-terraced hills, she stood 
 As in a vision ; and across the sky 
 The white moon, stately as a princess, high 
 Amid a thousand stars, moved silently, 
 Her silver traihng dress upon the sea : 
 
 Then folded up her dream in her deep heart, 
 
 And waking, blushed to know it hidden there. 
 For Guido, Lord of Cervia, apart, 
 
 In suddenwise, within his daughter's hair 
 Had set a blossom only one may wear : 
 And all the day as one who slept and dreamed, 
 And waked to dream her dream again, she 
 seemed. 
 
lO FRANCE SC A OF RIMINI. 
 
 And all the day a wistful yearning, sweet 
 And pitiful, alas! and sharp surprise, 
 
 And timid dread of that she would not meet 
 Yet would not lose, was mingled in her eyes, 
 Hope answering to fear in soft replies. 
 
 O little Heart ! that throbs and beats, who may 
 
 Translate thy music or thy tumult weigh ! 
 
 Within the sunny garden of her life, 
 
 Where only murmuringwise upon her ears 
 
 Fell undiscerned the turmoil of men's strife, 
 What should she know of all the sin and 
 
 tears 
 That stain the purple raiment of the years; 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. \ 
 
 Of love made loathing, and of mocked desire, 
 Of mould within the seed, that wastes as fire 
 
 Erewhile it blooms, of all the ills that blight 
 Ere foolish hope be wholly turned to scorn. 
 
 The little space and span of man's delight. 
 For in her heart each image fair was born, 
 As flowers, standing in the doors of morn, 
 
 Ere yet the lurking shadows, one by one, 
 
 Gather and deepen in the noontide sun. 
 
 So must it be, — for if to him who first 
 
 The toilsome way begun, were told the sin, 
 The pain, the shame, the hunger and the thirst, 
 
12 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 How should he dare the journey to begin ! 
 
 How would he rather choose again to win 
 That rest serene, whence coming, man but may 
 Return, nor break its slumber by a day ! 
 
 I I I. 
 
 Divided then was all that land. Within 
 Her door the good wife trembling saw afar 
 
 The flash of shields. A little gold to win 
 
 The sword was drawn, nor loth were hands to mar 
 What lips had sworn. And Guido, long at war, 
 
 And fearing oaths but lightly pledged, would fain 
 
 With holier vows the new-made truce maintain. 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. j^ 
 
 But one whose crafty counsel in the things 
 
 Of state he sought, made answer thus : " Beware, 
 
 O fiiend, of this that thou wilt do. The wings 
 Of love are strong and free, and were he heir, 
 This Malatesta lord, to virtues rare 
 
 As brilliants chosen for a royal crown. 
 
 Well at their setting might a maiden frown. 
 
 *' Now if this man she see, nor I, nor thou, 
 
 Shall move her mind to wed with him. But 
 let 
 
 His brother Paulo come to take the vow. 
 That thus a maiden's fancies may not set 
 At naught thy pleasure, and new perils yet 
 
 2 
 
H 
 
 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI, 
 
 The state assail." And thus unwittingly 
 Came Paulo, with a goodly company, 
 
 And gifts, the lily of the land to wed. 
 
 And so it happened that as down the street 
 
 That 'neath the palace windows winding led. 
 With tumult of men's voices and the feet 
 Of horses, passed the train, in shy retreat, 
 
 Francesca, with her maids, behind the half 
 
 Closed lattice stood. To whom with merry 
 laugh 
 
 One said : " Lo, lady, this is he, thy lord." 
 Who, when with timid wondering to prove 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINT. 1 5 
 
 Her dreams, she saw him thus in such accord 
 
 Therev/ith, straightway from that time forth her 
 
 love 
 In him she placed, nor knew what snare was wove 
 
 About her way, nor dreamed that love made sin 
 
 Should all the song make mute her heart within. 
 
 Full oft the perfect gift of happy days, 
 
 That dazzling pass as stars across our sky, 
 
 Is the sweet after- thought, that still delays 
 When low the stars 'neath the horizon lie, 
 And all the tumult of oar joy 's gone by. 
 
 Below the world's far edge dips from our view 
 
 The sun, but leaves behind his softest hue. 
 
1 5 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 So in some twilight chamber of our lives, 
 Oft watch we peaceful with a memory 
 
 Sweet as the long passed rapture it survives. 
 And oft Francesca in the days to be, 
 Should clothe herself again in fantasy. 
 
 With robes of white and pearls, o'"t hear again 
 
 The dim vaults echo back the deep refrain 
 
 Of chanting choir, should feel anew the faint 
 Breath of the censer steal, a holy spell, 
 
 About her soul, and feign the sweet constraint 
 That mingled with the joy she could not 
 
 tell 
 The rapture of a kiss might but dispel. 
 
FRANCE SCA OF RIMINI. ly 
 
 Beneath the gate's wide span, where overhead, 
 Half white on field of azure, and half red 
 
 On field of gold, the eagle shone, oft should 
 She pass, and with her lover seek anew 
 
 The selfsame fields and summer-scented wood 
 That once before, with merry retinue 
 Of laughter and of song, they journeyed 
 through, 
 
 Till, counting thus of bliss her little store, 
 
 She comes, as on that festal night, once more 
 
 The wonder of all eyes, girt round with praise. 
 The circling sheen of pearls upon her bare 
 
8 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 White throat, as 'twere not tinted by the rays 
 Of southern suns, and yellower her hair 
 Than was the golden fillet twining there ; 
 
 And in her face a hVht divine, as one 
 
 Who called of Heaven knows her refuge won. 
 
 And long they say throughout that land was 
 told 
 How unto men she came, a breath of some 
 
 Forgotten sweetness lost to life grown old ; 
 A glimmer of the dawn and fields abloom, 
 To light within the heart's long darkened room 
 
 The faces of the dead, that moulder not 
 
 As things of earth, but slumbering, forgot 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. jq 
 
 Of men, wait for the issue of the night. 
 O life ! that hath for love so little ruth ; — 
 
 For love is more than life, though life should blight 
 All sweet false dreaming with its bitter truth, 
 And all that makes the paradise of youth. 
 
 Dissolve as clouds, that gild the morning's train 
 
 With golden fleece, to melt at night in rain. 
 
 And all that night, though love were slain, the 
 sea 
 Played with the shadows of the stars, heedless 
 
 The nightingale his midnight melody 
 
 Outpoured, and through the summer quietness. 
 Unbroken, save where in the bay's recess, 
 
20 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Secure at last, the weary boatmen furled 
 
 With song their glistening sails, slept on the world. 
 
 High 2ip the mountain slope ^ 
 TJie frailest blossoms ope 
 To mornijtgdezv, and hide in rest 
 At night npon the crater s breast. 
 
 Close in the narrow path, 
 
 That no side turning hath, 
 
 A shining angel waits, 7ior saith 
 
 To him who conies, My kiss is death I 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 21 
 
 IV. 
 
 Though in Its circuit summer wind should see 
 
 The death of summer flowers, it would not stay ; 
 Beneath the winter snow, as joyously 
 The river runs as when, in time of May, 
 The grasses stooped to hear what it should say. 
 In bright dim gates of birth alone a cry 
 Is born, and in the gates of death a sigh. 
 
 That with the voice of Nature has no kin ; 
 
 There is no place in all her wide domain 
 For one regretful tear ; only within 
 
 The spirit infinite is room for pain. 
 
 So stir of life no heaviness can chain, 
 
22 FRANCESCA OF RTMINL 
 
 And softly coming dawn returned, and dumb 
 Night, waking, broke anew in song. So come 
 
 The days as women beautiful in dreams : 
 
 Each with her handmaids two, — sweet Joy, whose 
 smile. 
 
 Bespeaking unto men heaven's pity, seems 
 To wrap the world in peace, as seas the isle : 
 But in her shadow, as a veil the while, 
 
 Walks Sorrow, silent and unseen of all, 
 
 Save those on whom perchance her sad eyes fall. 
 
 Day follows hard the night. The rocks make haste 
 To clothe a little while their barren breasts ; 
 
FRANC ESC A OF RIMINI. 23 
 
 The buds swell swiftly, for the winds that waste 
 Are stirring in the north. A thousand nests 
 Are building fast, wherein a new world rests 
 But so to gain a little strength of wing, 
 To follow on the footsteps of the spring. 
 
 So swift the whirling wheel it seems to stand : 
 Each broken life, as dreams that caught in 
 sleep 
 
 Still go before, weaves on the endless strand. 
 Men listen for the voice of them that weep, 
 But still and smooth as waters where they leap 
 
 The gulf, the flowing sea gives back no sound ; — 
 
 Not yet the secret told, the answer found. 
 
24 
 
 FRANC ESC A OF RIMINI. 
 
 For this the gods are kind, that men may see 
 Some footprints on the sliding sands of space, 
 
 But not the wondrous feet : — some shadows flee 
 As clouds that pass above and leave no trace. 
 Some far-off light, but not the hidden face: 
 
 May catch some dim strange strain no waiting ear 
 
 May understand, for this the gods are dear. 
 
 V. 
 
 Rich food for many tongues that bridal proved, 
 For straightway knew all men how she w^as wed 
 
 To Guianciotto, and not him she loved. 
 And if some hearts awhile sweet pity led, 
 As little waves, stirred in their shallow bed 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 25 
 
 Alike by breeze and tempest, soon are still, 
 So scarce a day such things their hearts did fill. 
 
 For cruel waking on that morn she had, 
 
 When first her husband's face with shrinking eyes 
 
 She knew, and 'gan within her heart once glad 
 With all the merry world might bring, to rise 
 A loathing fear of that she fain would prize. 
 
 And from the fields above, the waters all^ 
 
 So sweet unto her lips, seemed touclied with gall. 
 
 " Ah me !" she cried, " that I may finish fast 
 
 The bitter draught life's narrowing rim clasps 
 round, 
 
 3 
 
26 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 And SO that pearl of peace I gain at last, 
 That not in all the flowers its margin bound, 
 But only in its dark drained depth is found." 
 
 Strange ! how each one some time upon life's way, 
 
 How fair soever then it be, how gray 
 
 Soe'er it stretches to the mist-hung west. 
 
 Knows well that there within the dusk, not here, 
 
 Though fair sky stoop to fairer fields, is rest. 
 Intent on matters to his heart more dear 
 Than woman's love, her lord, they say who near 
 
 These twain were, might not know a woman's 
 
 need; 
 He saw her face, yet seeing might not read, 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 2 7 
 
 Her scorn, but not her tears. " Forsooth, she hath 
 Been overreached," he said, " the jewelled store 
 
 Of Malatesta's bride will stay the wrath 
 
 Of her soft eyes." And jesting lightly o'er 
 A maiden's fancies, soon the brief days wore 
 
 That he should tarry with her, and anon 
 
 To a far land he governed he was gone. 
 
 So seemed the worst thing done ; and summer 
 
 wrought 
 From hill to belt of sea its dress of green, 
 And to that land glad gifts the autumn brought. 
 Yet had the lapse of hours no spell to wean 
 Her sad, enduring thought from what had been. 
 
28 FRANCE SC A OF RIMINL 
 
 Above her golden cushion still she hears 
 The pulse of love, and broiders only tears. 
 
 No idle talk of maids might mar for her 
 
 The dream that in her lute's low music fled, 
 
 Of what should be, when from the sepulchre 
 
 The stone were rolled, and Love were in Fate's 
 
 stead. 
 Haply within the awful hush of dead 
 
 Desires, when men no longer fain would know 
 
 Whither at night the red suns silent go, 
 
 Some peace, a peace of vanished hopes, may hide. 
 But solitude for her was as the breath 
 
FRANCE SC A OF RIMINI. 29 
 
 Of spring to quicken what perchance had died. — 
 A tomb wherein as one none comforteth, 
 She entered with the dead and watched with 
 death, 
 And set against her woe the joy she might 
 Not leave, a thing forgotten in the night. 
 
 For though an angel, pleading, to her lips 
 Had borne a draught so peaceful and so deep 
 
 That all her pain had found therein eclipse, 
 
 Yet had she deemed it still more sweet to keep 
 The memories that stirred her troubled sleep 
 
 As with the tremor of a kiss, whose thrill 
 
 She had not known till lips and heart were still. 
 
 3* 
 
30 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 For so, scarce conscious of our joy, we wait 
 Expectant, looking for some better guest, 
 
 As he who sees the moving clouds too late, 
 Alas ! too late, turn golden in the west ; 
 Or sudden feels the odorous breath, when pressed 
 
 Beneath his feet, the flower yields at last 
 
 The fragrance round his life it fain had cast. 
 
 No more the palace seemed a bridal-place ; 
 Masking nor feast Francesca's presence knew ; 
 
 And if some time perchance men saw her face 
 When to the garden close she slowly drew. 
 Where dark upon the brown moss thickest 
 grew 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 31 
 
 The shade, such trouble seemed thereon to bide, 
 As only death within its peace may hide. 
 
 Goodly that pleasance was ; its border fringed 
 With yellow grass the sea that ofttimes flung 
 
 Therein the flakes of salt froth, amber tinged, 
 
 And on the sloping reach of pebbles sung 
 The selfsame yearning song, as first amonc 
 The sleeping hills and shallow shining bars, 
 Unheard, it whispered to the new-lit stars. 
 
 Beyond were shadowed spaces of a wood. 
 
 Low boughed, where on the river's edge of 
 
 sand, 
 
22 FRANCE SC A OF RIMINI. 
 
 Waist-deep and scarcely stirred, the sedges stood, — 
 And blossoms, strewn as by a sower's hand, 
 Sailed out into the open pasture-land, 
 Where like a white arm wound about the lea, 
 The river kept the meadows from the sea. 
 
 There might she hear, among the wind-blown 
 boughs. 
 Such sounds as fain would set her feet in 
 some 
 New place, beyond the far hills' lifted brows, — 
 Whereto the limbs above, with gesture dumb, 
 Swayed beckoning, and the swift stream cried, 
 Come ! 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 33 
 
 And on its bosom floating to the sea 
 
 The blossoms answered, Follow, follow me. 
 
 O Nature ! Sweet to every stricken one, 
 
 Thy voices, infinite in harmony. 
 Chant secret things of peace. And thou alone 
 
 Shalt lull to slumber, motherwise, all cry 
 
 Of pain, e'en as at last so tenderly 
 Thou gatherest our honor or our shame 
 Unto thy silent bosom whence we cai^e. 
 
 For though the moaning sea moan not its 
 dead, 
 And all the glistening tears about the mound 
 
34 
 
 FRANC ESC A OF RIM I NT. 
 
 Of blessed dust are but the cold dew shed 
 From out a colder sky, yet have men found 
 No waywise voice like to that solemn sound 
 Of waves, than the sweet earth no breast 
 So soft, whereon to lay their lips at rest. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And thus it fell that Paulo from the chase 
 
 Passed in the gloaming of the wood, till through 
 
 The flowering thorn he brake unto a space 
 
 That scarce all day the summer sunshine knew, — 
 And sudden as within the place he drew, 
 
 Beheld her first since on that night of shame, 
 
 Girt round with wonder and with praise she came. 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 3^ 
 
 Face unto face awhile in the dim wood, 
 
 So near that he might see the white pearls rise 
 
 And tremble in her loosened gown, they stood, — 
 Such sudden light within her yearning eyes, 
 As made those joyless days in some sweet wise 
 
 As dreams, of a long-ending night and drear, 
 
 That sudden fails from dusk to dawn, appear. 
 
 Nay ! was it strange his eager hands reached out 
 Unto his love, unto his sweet, and thus 
 
 At last the wasting pain, the fiery drought. 
 
 Should cease, — strange that her kind eyes mar- 
 vellous 
 Stirred all his heart with longingr, tremulous 
 
36 
 
 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 As fear, pulsing as pain, — that he should buy 
 One little hour of love with life and die! 
 
 Like the fair blossoming edge of heaven's shore, 
 Only a daised path between lay low ; 
 
 Yet he moved not, for e'en such fear passed 
 o'er 
 Her troubled face as love alone may know, — 
 As shrinking back, yet with sad step and slow, 
 
 Pleading yet mute, in the dim shuddering light 
 
 She moved, a fading vision, from his sight. 
 
 Long time he stood, yet as one seeing naught 
 About him, or how 'gan the day among 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 37 
 
 The hollows of the hills to sleep. Fulfraught 
 
 With the sweet treasures of far fields, scarce hung 
 The bees above the folding flowers, scarce swung 
 In topmost branches the hushed nests, and dim 
 Were grown the shadows on the river's rim. 
 
 But in his ears, though lonesome was the place, 
 
 Were sounds confused of laughter and of mirth, 
 And in his eyes a well-beloved face, 
 
 And in his heart, as flowers that have their 
 
 birth 
 In waste forgotten places of the earth, 
 Sweet flickering memories; till once again 
 He heard the bridal song, and twain by twain, 
 
 4 
 
3S 
 
 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Fair hand in hand, the white-clad maids, at last 
 With lingering steps that scarce the measured 
 strain 
 
 Might keep, from the bride-chamber slowly passed ; 
 And with strange shame and fear, sweet unto pain, 
 He heard soft footfalls of the passing train, 
 
 As voice by voice the joyous song decreased, 
 
 Until at last footfall and singing ceased, — 
 
 Then woke, to hear the unremembering wind 
 Moan to the river lapping on its shore 
 
 Of reeds, and far through gathering mist and blind 
 Th' incoming sea send sullen answer o'er 
 Its sands, and waking, knew that evermore 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIM INT. 
 
 His love the measure of her woe should be, 
 The wound that fleeing still she might not flee. 
 
 Love ! the sea is deep whence thou wast born, 
 And in thine eyes betimes such szueet light hides, 
 
 As of dint depths zvhere night and noon are morn ; 
 Beneath the bosom of its fitful tides 
 Men say indissoluble peace abides, — 
 
 And yet so swift thy shifting lights, ah me I 
 
 Who knows, zvho knozvs, if so or no it be ? 
 
 Love ! thy croivn is laughter, and the foam 
 
 Of sun-loved seas is round thy feet. Thy breath 
 Ls as the breath of ivinds that have their home 
 
 39 
 
40 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 In siinnner loving lands , foi-got of deatli, — 
 Soft zvinds^ that stir the reach of purple heath 
 With sighing sounds of restfulness or woe, — 
 Ah me ! who knows if so it be or no ? 
 
 Below the glitter of thy sea, Love, 
 Men say the dead iiinnvierable lie ; 
 
 And that the red rose paler blooms above 
 
 The lonesome grave, and winds that wander by, 
 Linger about the home of them that die : 
 
 But thoit art glad, as they who no death knozu, 
 
 Ah me I zuho kiiows if it be so or no ? 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 41 
 
 V 1 1. 
 
 Within the palace is a room beneath 
 
 Whose window, at its weary journey's end, 
 The quiet river sleeps. Their sweetest breath 
 The distant groves within its lattice send, — 
 Around its sunny oriel casement bend 
 The blossoming vines, amid whose moving shades 
 A woman sits, and weaves her silken braids 
 
 In patterns not less delicate than they. 
 
 She does not hear without the boatman's song, 
 
 Nor yet the oar's soft plash and dripping play, 
 But oft the pauses of her work among, 
 Her sad eyes turn to one who reads the wrong 
 
42 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 That shamed King Arthur's court. And as the 
 
 strain 
 Reveals the King, great-hearted, without stain, 
 
 She thinks of him, her lord, — not like, ah ! no, 
 Not like to him, — and that for her had been 
 
 No happy bowers of Usk or Camelot, 
 
 No love, no faith as had that faithless Queen, 
 But only treachery, and hate between 
 
 A pity and a scorn. And in that dumb 
 
 Far past she saw again her lover come 
 
 With music down the crowded streets, once more 
 She lived that gala day of joy, and rode 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 43 
 
 Beside him through the open city door, 
 As out into a world new made of God. 
 What cruel way would not her feet, unshod 
 And bleeding, press, if so she might but gain 
 At last from mist of tears and fire of pain 
 
 But one such day ! The children, what a voice 
 
 Of merriment was theirs that bridal morn ! 
 What strange new life that bade the world rejoice ! 
 What keener sight, as though Heaven's veil were 
 
 torn 
 And a new Paradise for man were born 1 
 Almost she were content that Queen to be, 
 If but again such things her eyes might see. 
 
44 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 The golden threads lay idle in her hands : — 
 
 Full breasted as a flood, whose glistening spray 
 
 Leaves but the wreck within its waste of sands, 
 So came these memories of another day, 
 And passed the present woe but to betray. 
 
 Poor Heart ! that hadst indeed laid love at rest, 
 
 But wrought its tomb within thine own warm breast. 
 
 For here it chanced he read of the Queen's smile 
 When kissed of Launcelot, and reading, still 
 
 Was conscious of her gaze, and felt the while 
 The subtle spell whose influences thrill 
 From heart to heart in cunning ways where 
 will 
 
FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 45 
 
 Is slave, and lifting from the page apace 
 His eyes, beheld, alas ! her radiant face. 
 
 So moving down that vale, whose end they knew, 
 Of sweetest flowers and sharpest thorns, came 
 they 
 
 At last thereto ; and waiting Rumor through 
 The air took wing upon her doleful way. 
 So, clothed in scorn or pity, shall men say 
 
 On thee the blight of Eden too must cling, 
 
 O Love ! thou Jester, that wast born a King ! 
 
 O ye who leave the world a stainless name, 
 And sitting peaceful on the splendid heights, 
 
46 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI. 
 
 Behold it shine amid the years, a flame 
 As of the stars, whose everlasting lights 
 Burn unexhausted through eternal nights. 
 How have ye wrought within life's scanty days 
 Of toil, with mortal hands, immortal praise ! 
 
 O fool ! Here is no marvel ; straight and true 
 The slender threads the web of exquisite 
 
 Design run through, or ravelling, all undo. 
 And from time's little span, in rhythmic flight, 
 The hours rejoin the pulsings infinite. 
 
 With wail discordant, or in melody 
 
 Sweet voiced, as birds that seek the upper sky. 
 

 
 
 ^^