Classic Poem

'Tis eve; how that rich sunlight streameth through

'Tis eve; how that rich sunlight streameth through
The inwoven arches of this sylvan roof!
How those long lustrous lines of light illume
With trembling radiance, all the aged boles
Of elms, majestic as the lofty columns
That proudly rear their tall forms to the dome
Of old cathedral or imperial palace!
Yea, they are grander than the mightiest shafts
That e'er by hand of man were fashioned forth
Their holy solemn temples to uphold;
And sweeter far than the harmonious peals
Of choral thunder, that in music roll
Through vaulted aisles, are the low forest sounds
Murmuring around: of wind and stirred leaf,
And warbled song of nightingale or lark,
Whose swelling cadences and dying falls
And whelming gushes of rich melody
Attune to meditation, all serene,
The weary spirit; and draw forth still thoughts

Of happy scenes, half veiled by the mists
Of by-gone times. Yea, that calm influence
Hath soothed the billowy troubles of my heart
Till scarce one sad thought rises, though I sit
Beneath these trees, utterly desolate.
But no, not utterly, for still one friend
I fain would hope remains to brighten yet
My mournful journey through this vale of tears;
And while he shines, all other lesser lights
May wane and fade unnoticed from the sky.
But more than friend e'en he can never be
(Heaves a deep sigh)
That thought is sorrowful, but yet I'll hope.
What is my rival? Nought but a weak girl
Ungifted with the state and majesty
That mark superior minds: her eyes gleam not
Like windows to a soul of loftiness;
She hath not raven locks that lightly wave
Over a brow whose calm placidity
Might emulate the white and polished marble.
(A white dove flutters by)
Ha! what art thou, fair creature? It hath vanished
Down that long vista of low-drooping trees.
How gracefully its pinions waved! Methinks
It was the spirit of this solitude.
List! I hear footsteps; and the rustling leaves
Proclaim the approach of some corporeal being.

Lady, methinks I erst have seen thy face:
Art thou not that Zenobia, she whose name
Renown hath borne e'en to this far retreat?

Lady Ellrington:

Aye, maiden, thou hast rightly guessed. But how

Didst recognize me?
Girl:

In Verdopolis
I saw thee walking mid those gardens fair
That like a rich embroidered belt surround
That mighty city, and one bade me look
At her whose genius had illumined bright
Her age, and country, with undying splendour.
The majesty of thy imperial form,
The fire and sweetness of thy radiant eye
Alike conspired to impress thine image
Upon my memory; and thus it is
That now I know thee as thou sittest there
Queen-like, beneath the over-shadowing boughs
Of that huge oak-tree, monarch of this wood.

Lady Ellrington: (smiling graciously)

Who art thou, maiden?

Girl:

Marian is my name
Lady Ellrington (starting up: aside):

Ha! my rival! (sternly) What dost thou here alone?
Girl (aside):

How her tone changed! (Aloud) My favourite cushat-dove,
Whose plumes are whiter than new-fallen snow,
Hath wandered, heedless, from my vigilant care.
I saw it gleaming through these dusky trees,
Fair as a star, while soft it glided by.
So here I come to find and lure it back.

Lady Ellrington:

Are all thy affections centred in a bird?
For thus thou speakest, as though nought were worthy
Of thought or care, saving a silly dove?

Girl:

Nay, lady, I've a father, and mayhap
Others whom gratitude or tenderer ties,
If such there be, bind my heart closely to.

Lady Ellrington:

But birds and flowers and such trifles vain
Seem most t' attract thy love, if I may form
A judgment from thy locks elaborate curl'd
And wreathed around with woven garlandry,
And from thy whining speech, all redolent
With tone of most affected sentiment!
(Seizes Marian, and exclaims with a violent gesture)
Wretch, I could kill thee!

Marian:

Why, what have I done?
How have I wronged thee? Surely thou'rt distraught!

Lady Ellrington:

How hast thou wronged me? Where didst weave the net
Whose cunning meshes have entangled round
The mightiest heart that e'er in mortal breast
Did beat responsive unto human feeling?

Marian:

The net? What net? I wove no net; she's frantic!

Lady Ellrington:

Dull, simple creature! Canst not understand?

Marian:

Truly, I cannot. 'Tis to me a problem,
An unsolved riddle, an enigma dark.

Lady Ellrington:

I'll tell thee, then. But, hark! What voice is that?

Voice (from the forest):

Marian, where art thou? I have found a rose
Fair as thyself! Come hither and I'll place it
With the blue violets on thine ivory brow.

Marian:

He calls me, I must go: restrain me not!

Lady Ellrington:

Nay! I will hold thee firmly as grim death.
Thou need'st not struggle, for my grasp is strong.
Thou shalt not go. Lord Arthur shall come here,
And I will gain the rose despite of thee.
Now for my hour of triumph: here he comes!

Lord Arthur advances from among the trees, and
exclaims on seeing Lady Ellrington:
Lord Arthur:

Zenobia! How cam'st thou here? What ails thee?
Thy cheek is flushed as with a fever glow,
Thine eyes flash strangest radiance, and thy frame
Trembles like to the wind-stirred aspen tree!

Lady Ellrington:

Give me the rose, Lord Arthur, for methinks
I merit it more than my girlish rival.
I pray thee now grant my request and place
That rose upon my forehead, not on hers,
Then will I serve thee all my after-days
As thy poor hand-maid, as thy humblest slave,
Happy to kiss the dust beneath thy tread,
To kneel submissive in thy lordly presence.
Oh! turn thine eyes from her and look on me
As I lie here imploring at thy feet,
Supremely blest if but a single glance
Could tell me that thou art not wholly deaf
To my petition, earnestly preferred.

Lord Arthur:

Lady, thou'rt surely mad! Depart, and hush
Those importunate cries. They are not worthy
Of the great name which thou hast fairly earned.

Lady Ellrington:

Give me that rose, or I to thee will cleave
Till death these vigorous sinews has unstrung.
Hear me this once and give it me, Lord Arthur!

Lord Arthur (After a few minutes deliberation):

Here, take the flower, and keep it for my sake.
(Marian utters a suppressed scream, and sinks to the ground)

Lady Ellrington (assisting her to rise):

Now I have triumphed! But I'll not exult.
Yet know, henceforth I'm thy superior.
Farewell, my lord; I thank thee for thy preference!
(Plunges into the wood and disappears)

Lord Arthur:

Fear nothing, Marian, for a fading flower
Is not symbolical of constancy.
But take this sign! (gives her his diamond ring) enduring adamant
Betokens well affection that will live
Long as life animates my faithful heart.
Now, let us go, for see the deepening shades
Of twilight darken our lone forest path;
And, lo! thy dove comes gliding through the mirk,
Fair wanderer, back to its loved mistress' care.
Luna will light us on our journey home:
For see her lamp shines radiant in the sky,
And her bright beams will pierce the thickest boughs.English