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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">ON Dinan's walls the morning sunlight plays, <br>Gilds the stern fortress with a crown of rays, <br>Shines on the children's heads that troop to school, <br>Turns into beryl-brown the forest pool, <br>Sends diamond sparkles over gushing springs, <br>And showers down glory on the simplest things. <br>And many a young seigneur and damsel bold <br>See with delight those beams of reddening gold, <br>For they are bid to join the hunt to-day <br>By Claud Marot, the lord of La Garaye; <br>And merry is it in his spacious halls; <br>Cheerful the host, whatever sport befalls, <br>Cheerful and courteous, full of manly grace, <br>His heart's frank welcome written in his face; <br>So eager, that his pleasure never cloys, <br>But glad to share whatever he enjoys; <br>Rich, liberal, gaily dressed, of noble mien, <br>Clear eyes,--full curving mouth,--and brow serene; <br>Master of speech in many a foreign tongue, <br>And famed for feats of arms, although so young; <br>Dexterous in fencing, skilled in horsemanship-- <br>His voice and hand preferred to spur or whip; <br>Quick at a jest and smiling repartee, <br>With a sweet laugh that sounded frank and free, <br>But holding Satire an accursèd thing, <br>A poisoned javelin or a serpent's sting; <br>Pitiful to the poor; of courage high; <br>A soul that could all turns of fate defy <br>Gentle to women: reverent to old age: <br>What more, young Claud, could men's esteem engage? <br>What more be given to bless thine earthy state, <br>Save Love,--which still must crown the happiest fate! <br>Love, therefore, came. That sunbeam lit his life <br>And where he wooed, he won, a gentle wife <br>Born, like himself, of lineage brave and good; <br>And, like himself, of warm and eager mood; <br>Glad to share gladness, pleasure to impart, <br>With dancing spirits and a tender heart. <br>Pleased too to share the manlier sports which made <br>The joy of his young hours. No more afraid <br>Of danger, than the seabird, used to soar <br>From the high rocks above the ocean's roar, <br>Which dips its slant wing in the wave's white crest, <br>And deems the foamy undulations, rest. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nor think the feminine beauty of her soul <br>Tarnished by yielding to such joy's control; <br>Nor that the form which, like a flexile reed, <br>Swayed with the movements of her bounding steed, <br>Took from those graceful hours a rougher force, <br>Or left her nature masculine and coarse. <br>She was not bold from boldness, but from love; <br>Bold from gay frolic; glad with him to rove <br>In danger or in safety, weal or woe, <br>And where he ventured, still she yearned to go. <br>Bold with the courage of his bolder life, <br>At home a tender and submissive wife; <br>Abroad, a woman, modest,--ay, and proud; <br>Not seeking homage from the casual crowd. <br>She remained pure, that darling of his sight, <br>In spite of boyish feats, and rash delight; <br>Still the eyes fell before an insolent look, <br>Or flashed their bright and innocent rebuke; <br>Still the cheek kept its delicate youthful bloom, <br>And the blush reddened through the snow-white plume. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He that had seen her, with her courage high, <br>First in the chase where all dashed rapid by; <br>He that had watched her bright impetuous look <br>When she prepared to leap the silver brook,-- <br>Fair in her Springtime as a branch of May,-- <br>Had felt the dull sneer feebly die away, <br>And unused kindly smiles upon his cold lips play! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">God made all pleasure innocent; but man <br>Turns them to shame, since first our earth began <br>To shudder 'neath the stroke of delving tools <br>When Eve and Adam lost,--poor tempted fools,-- <br>The sweet safe shelter of their Eden bowers, <br>Its easy wealth of sun-ripe fruits and flowers, <br>For some forbidden zest that was not given, <br>Some riotous hope to make a mimic heaven, <br>And sank,--from being wingless angels,--low <br>Into the depths of mean and abject woe. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Why should the sweet elastic sense of joy <br>Presage a fault? Why should the pleasure cloy, <br>Or turn to blame, which Heaven itself inspires, <br>Who gave us health and strength and all desires? <br>The children play, and sin not;--let the young <br>Still carol songs, as others too have sung; <br>Still urge the fiery courser o'er the plain, <br>Proud of his glossy sides and flowing mane; <br>Still, when they meet in careless hours of mirth, <br>Laugh, as if Sorrow were unknown to earth; <br>Prattling sweet nothings, which, like buds of flowers, <br>May turn to earnest thoughts and vigilant hours. <br>What boys can suffer, and weak women dare, <br>Let Indian and Crimean wastes declare: <br>Perchance in that gay group of laughers stand <br>Guides and defenders for our native land;-- <br>Folly it is to see a wit in woe, <br>And hold youth sinful for the spirits' flow. <br>As thro' the meadow lands clear rivers run, <br>Blue in the shadow--silver in the sun-- <br>Till, rolling by some pestilential source, <br>Some factory work whose wheels with horrid force <br>Strike the pure waters with their dripping beams, <br>Send poison gushing to the crystal streams, <br>And leave the innocent things to whom God gave <br>A natural home in that translucent wave <br>Gasping strange death, and floating down to show <br>The evil working in the depths below,-- <br>So man can poison pleasure at its source; <br>Clog the swift sparkle of its rapid course, <br>Mix muddy morbid thoughts in vicious strife, <br>Till to the surface floats the death of life;-- <br>But not the less the stream itself was pure-- <br>And not the less may blameless joy endure. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Careless,--but not impure,--the joyous days <br>Passed in a rapturous whirl; a giddy maze, <br>Where the young Count and lovely Countess drew <br>A new delight from every pleasure new. <br>They woke to gladness as the morning broke; <br>Their very voices kept, whene'er they spoke, <br>A ring of joy, a harmony of life, <br>That made you bless the husband and the wife. <br>And every day the careless festal throng, <br>And every night the dance and feast and song, <br>Shared with young boon companions, marked the time <br>As with a carillon's exulting chime; <br>Where those two entered, gloom passed out of sight, <br>Chased by the glow of their intense delight. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So, till the day when over Dinan's walls <br>The Autumn sunshine of my story falls; <br>And the guests bidden, gather for the chase, <br>And the smile brightens on the lovely face <br>That greets them in succession as they come <br>Into that high and hospitable home. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Like a sweet picture doth the Lady stand, <br>Still blushing as she bows; one tiny hand, <br>Hid by a pearl-embroidered gauntlet, holds <br>Her whip, and her long robe's exuberant folds. <br>The other hand is bare, and from her eyes <br>Shades now and then the sun, or softly lies, <br>With a caressing touch, upon the neck <br>Of the dear glossy steed she loves to deck <br>With saddle-housings worked in golden thread, <br>And golden bands upon his noble head. <br>White is the little hand whose taper fingers <br>Smooth his fine coat,--and still the lady lingers, <br>Leaning against his side; nor lifts her head, <br>But gently turns as gathering footsteps tread; <br>Reminding you of doves with shifting throats, <br>Brooding in sunshine by their sheltering cotes. <br>Under her plumèd hat her wealth of curls <br>Falls down in golden links among her pearls, <br>And the rich purple of her velvet vest <br>Slims the young waist, and rounds the graceful breast. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So, till the latest joins the happy Meet; <br>Then springs she gladly to her eager feet; <br>And, while the white hand from her courser's side <br>Slips like a snow-flake, stands prepared to ride. <br>Then lightly vaulting to her seat, she seems <br>Queen of some fair procession seen in dreams; <br>Queen of herself, and of the world; sweet Queen! <br>Her crown the plume above her brow serene, <br>Her jewelled whip a sceptre, and her dress <br>The regal mantle worn by loveliness. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And well she wears such mantle: swift the horse, <br>But firm her seat throughout the rapid course; <br>No rash unsteadiness, no shifting pose <br>Disturbs that line of beauty as she goes: <br>She wears her robe as some fair sloop her sails, <br>Which swell and flutter to the rising gales, <br>But never from the cordage taut and trim <br>Slacken or swerve away. The evening dim <br>Sees her return, unwearied and unbent, <br>The fair folds falling smooth as when she went; <br>The little foot no clasping buckle keeps, <br>She frees it, and to earth untrammelled leaps. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Alas! look well upon that picture fair! <br>The face--the form--the smile--the golden hair; <br>The agile beauty of each movement made,-- <br>The loving softness of her eyes' sweet shade, <br>The bloom and pliant grace of youthful days, <br>The gladness and the glory of her gaze. <br>If we knew when the last time was the last, <br>Visions so dear to straining eyes went past; <br>If we knew when the horror and the gloom <br>Should overcast the pride of beauty's bloom; <br>If we knew when affection nursed in vain <br>Should grow to be but bitterness and pain; <br>It were a curse to blight all living hours <br>With a hot dust, like dark volcano showers. <br>Give thanks to God who blinded us with Hope; <br>Denied man skill to draw his horoscope; <br>And, to keep mortals of the present fond, <br>Forbid the keenest sight to pierce beyond! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Falsehood from those we trusted; cruel sneers <br>From those whose voice was music to our ears; <br>Lonely old age; oppressed and orphaned youth; <br>Yearning appeals to hearts that know no ruth; <br>Ruin, that starves pale mouths we loved to feed; <br>A friend's forsaking in our utmost need; <br>These come,--and sting,--and madden; ay, and slay; <br>But not the less our joy hath had its day; <br>No little cloud first flecked our tranquil skies, <br>Presaging shipwreck to the prophet eyes; <br>No hand came forth upon the walls of home <br>With vanishing radiance writing darkest doom; <br>No child-soul called us in the dead of night, <br>Thrilled with a message from a God of might; <br>No shrouded Seer, by some enforcing spell, <br>Rose from Death's rest, Life's restless chance to tell; <br>The lightning smote us--shivering stem and bough: <br>All was so green: all lies so blighted now! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They ride together all that sunny day, <br>Claud and the lovely Lady of Garaye; <br>O'er hill and dale,--through fields of late reaped corn, <br>Through woods,--wherever sounds the hunting horn, <br>Wherever scour the fleet hounds, fast they follow, <br>Through tufted thickets and the leaf-strewn hollow; <br>And thrice,--the game secured,--they rest awhile, <br>And slacken bridle with a breathless smile: <br>And thrice, with joyous speed, off, off they go,-- <br>Like a fresh arrow from a new-strung bow! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But now the ground is rough with boulder stones, <br>Where, wild beneath, the prisoned streamlet moans, <br>The prisoned streamlet strugggling to be free, <br>Baring the roots of many a toppling tree, <br>Breaking the line where smooth-barked saplings rank, <br>And undermining all the creviced bank; <br>Till gushing out at length to open space, <br>Mad with the effort of its desperate race, <br>It pauses, swelling o'er the narrow ridge <br>Where fallen branches make a natural bridge, <br>Leaps to the next desent, and, balked no more, <br>Foams to a waterfall, whose ceaseless roar <br>Echoes far down the banks, and through the forest hoar! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Across the water full of peakèd stones-- <br>Across the water where it chafes and moans-- <br>Across the water at its widest part-- <br>Which wilt thou leap,--oh, lady of brave heart? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Their smiling eyes have met--those eager two: <br>She looks at Claud, as questioning which to do: <br>He rides--reins in --looks down the torrent's course,-- <br>Pats the sleek neck of his sure-footed horse,-- <br>Stops,--measures spaces with his eagle eye, <br>Tries a new track, and yet returns to try. <br>Sudden, while pausing at the very brink, <br>The damp leaf-covered ground appears to sink, <br>And the keen instinct of the wise dumb brute <br>Escapes the yielding earth, the slippery root; <br>With a wild effort as if taking wing <br>The monstrous gap he clears with one safe spring; <br>Reaches--(and barely reaches)--past the roar <br>Of the wild stream, the further lower shore,-- <br>Scrambles--recovers,--rears--and panting stands <br>Safe 'neath his master's nerveless trembling hands. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Oh! even while he leapt, his horrid thought <br>Was of the peril to that lady brought; <br>Oh! even while he leapt, her Claud looked back, <br>And shook his hand to warn her from the track. <br>In vain: the pleasant voice she loved so well <br>Feebly re-echoed through that dreadful dell, <br>The voice that was the music of her home <br>Shouted in vain across that torrent's foam. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He saw her, pausing on the bank above; <br>Saw,--like a dreadful vision of his love,-- <br>That dazzling dream stand on the edge of death: <br>Saw it--and stared--and prayed--and held his breath. <br>Bright shone the Autumn sun on wood and plain; <br>On the steed's glossy flanks and flowing mane; <br>On the wild silver of the rushing brook; <br>On his wife's smiling and triumphant look; <br>Bright waved against the sky her wind-tost plume, <br>Bright on her freshened cheek the healthy bloom,-- <br>Oh! all bright things, how could ye end in doom? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Forward they leaped! They leaped--a coloured flash <br>Of life and beauty. Hark! a sudden crash,-- <br>Blent with that dreadful sound, a man's sharp cry,-- <br>Prone,--'neath the crumbling bank,--the horse and lady lie! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The heart grows humble in an awe-struck grief; <br>Claud thinks not, dreams not, plans not her relief. <br>Strengthen him but, O God! to reach the place, <br>And let him look upon her dying face! <br>Let him but say farewell! farewell, sweet love! <br>And once more hear her speak, and see her move,-- <br>And ask her if she suffers where she lies,-- <br>And kiss the lids down on her closing eyes,-- <br>And he will be content. <br>He climbs and strives: <br>The strength is in his heart of twenty lives; <br>Across the leaf-strewn gaps he madly springs; <br>From branch to branch like some wild ape he swings; <br>Breasts, with hot effort, that cold rushing source <br>Of death and danger. With a giant's force <br>His bleeding hands and broken nails have clung <br>Round the gnarled slippery roots above him hung, <br>And now he's near,--he sees her through the leaves; <br>But a new horrid fear his mind receives: <br>The steed! his hoofs may crush that angel head! <br>No, Claud,--her favourite is already dead, <br>One shivering gasp thro' limbs that now stretch out like lead. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He's with her! is he dying too? his blood <br>Beats no more to and fro; his abstract mood <br>Weighs like a nightmare; something, well he knows, <br>Is horrible,--and still the horror grows; <br>But what it is, or how it came to pass, <br>Or why he lies half fainting on the grass, <br>Or what he strove to clutch at in his fall, <br>Or why he had no power for help to call, <br>This is confused and lost. <br>But Claud has heard <br>A sound like breathings from a sleeping bird <br>New-caged that day,--a weak distrubing sigh, <br>The whisper of a grief that cannot cry,-- <br>Repeated, and then still; and then again <br>Repeated,--and a long low moan of pain. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The hunt is passing; through the arching glade <br>The hounds sweep on in flickering light and shade, <br>The cheery huntsman winds his rallying horn, <br>And voices shouting from his guests that morn <br>Keep calling, calling, 'Claud, the hunt is o'er, <br>Return we to the merry halls once more!' <br>Claud hears not; heeds not;--all is like a dream <br>Except that lady lying by the stream; <br>Above all tumult of uproarious sound <br>Comes the faint sigh that breathes along the ground, <br>Where pale as death in her returning life <br>Writhes the sweet angel whom he still calls wife. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He parts the masses of her golden hair, <br>He lifts her, helpless, with a shudderng care, <br>He looks into her face with awe-struck eyes;-- <br>She dies--the darling of his soul--she dies! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You might have heard, through that thought's fearful shock, <br>The beating of his heart like some huge clock; <br>And then the strong pulse falter and stand still, <br>When lifted from that fear with sudden thrill <br>He bent to catch faint murmurs of his name, <br>Which from those blanched lips low and trembling came: <br>'Oh! Claud!' she said: no more-- <br>But never yet, <br>Through all the loving days since first they met, <br>Leaped his heart's blood with such a yearning vow <br>That she was all in all to him, as now. <br>'Oh! Claud--the pain!' <br>'Oh! Gertrude, my beloved!' <br>Then faintly o'er her lips a wan smile moved, <br>Which dumbly spoke of comfort from his tone, <br>As though she felt half saved, not so to die alone. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ah! happy they who in their grief or pain <br>Yearn not for some familiar face in vain; <br>Who in the sheltering arms of love can lie <br>Till human passion breathes its latest sigh; <br>Who, when words fail to enter the dull ear, <br>And when eyes cease from seeing forms most dear, <br>Still the fond clasping touch can understand,-- <br>And sink to death from that detaining hand! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He sits and watches; and she lies and moans; <br>The wild stream rushes over broken stones; <br>The dead leaves flutter to the mossy earth; <br>Far-away echoes bring the hunters' mirth; <br>And the long hour creeps by--too long--too long; <br>Till the chance music of a peasant' song <br>Breaks the hard silence with a human hope, <br>And Claud starts up and gazes down the slope; <br>And from a wandering herdsman he obtains <br>The help whose want has chilled his anxious veins. <br>Into a simple litter then they bind <br>Thin cradling branches deftly intertwined; <br>And there they lay the lady as they found her, <br>With all her bright hair streaming sadly round her; <br>Her white lips parted o'er the pearly teeth <br>Like pictured saints', who die a martyr's death,-- <br>And slowly bear her, like a corse of clay, <br>Back to the home she left so blithe to-day. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The starry lights shine forth from tower and hall, <br>Stream through the gateway, glimmer on the wall, <br>And the loud pleasant stir of busy men <br>In courtyard and in stable sounds again. <br>And through the windows, as that death-bier passes, <br>They see the shining of the ruby glasses <br>Set at brief intervals for many a guest <br>Prepared to share the laugh, the song, the jest; <br>Prepared to drink, with many a courtly phrase, <br>Their host and hostess--'Health to the Garayes!' <br>Health to the slender, lithe, yet stalwart frame <br>Of Claud Marot--Count of that noble name; <br>Health to his lovely Countess: health--to her! <br>Scarce seems she now with faintest breath to stir: <br>Oh! half-shut eyes--oh! brow with torture damp,-- <br>Will life's oil rise in that expiring lamp? <br>Are there yet days to come, or does he bend <br>Over a hope of which this is the end? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He shivers, and hot tears shut out the sight <br>Of that dear home for feasting made so bright; <br>The golden evening light is round him dying, <br>The dark rooks to their nests are slowly flying, <br>As underneath the portal, faint with fear, <br>He sees her carried, now so doubly dear; <br>'Save her!' is written in his anxious glances, <br>As the quick-summoned leech in haste advances. <br>'Save her!'--and through the gloom of midnight hours, <br>And through the hot noon, shut from air and flowers, <br>Young Claud sits patient--waiting day by day <br>For health for that sweet lady of Garaye.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</a></strong></div>

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