would it shone to lead me still,
Although to death or deadliest ill!
Although to death or deadliest ill!
Byron
* * * * *
"The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name; 1100
But mine was like the lava flood
That boils in AEtna's breast of flame.
I cannot prate in puling strain
Of Ladye-love, and Beauty's chain:
If changing cheek, and scorching vein,[ef]
Lips taught to writhe, but not complain,
If bursting heart, and maddening brain,
And daring deed, and vengeful steel,
And all that I have felt, and feel,
Betoken love--that love was mine, 1110
And shown by many a bitter sign.
'Tis true, I could not whine nor sigh,
I knew but to obtain or die.
I die--but first I have possessed,
And come what may, I _have been_ blessed.
Shall I the doom I sought upbraid?
No--reft of all, yet undismayed[eg]
But for the thought of Leila slain,
Give me the pleasure with the pain,
So would I live and love again. 1120
I grieve, but not, my holy Guide!
For him who dies, but her who died:
She sleeps beneath the wandering wave--
Ah! had she but an earthly grave,
This breaking heart and throbbing head
Should seek and share her narrow bed.
She was a form of Life and Light,[119]
That, seen, became a part of sight;
And rose, where'er I turned mine eye,
The Morning-star of Memory! 1130
"Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven;[eh][120]
A spark of that immortal fire
With angels shared, by Alia given,
To lift from earth our low desire.
Devotion wafts the mind above,
But Heaven itself descends in Love;
A feeling from the Godhead caught,
To wean from self each sordid thought;
A ray of Him who formed the whole;
A Glory circling round the soul! 1140
I grant _my_ love imperfect, all
That mortals by the name miscall;
Then deem it evil, what thou wilt;
But say, oh say, _hers_ was not Guilt!
She was my Life's unerring Light:
That quenched--what beam shall break my night? [ei]
Oh!
would it shone to lead me still,
Although to death or deadliest ill!
Why marvel ye, if they who lose
This present joy, this future hope, 1150
No more with Sorrow meekly cope;
In phrensy then their fate accuse;
In madness do those fearful deeds
That seem to add but Guilt to Woe?
Alas! the breast that inly bleeds
Hath nought to dread from outward blow:
Who falls from all he knows of bliss,
Cares little into what abyss. [ej]
Fierce as the gloomy vulture's now
To thee, old man, my deeds appear: 1160
I read abhorrence on thy brow,
And this too was I born to bear!
'Tis true, that, like that bird of prey,
With havock have I marked my way:
But this was taught me by the dove,
To die--and know no second love.
This lesson yet hath man to learn,
Taught by the thing he dares to spurn:
The bird that sings within the brake,
The swan that swims upon the lake, 1170
One mate, and one alone, will take.
And let the fool still prone to range,[ek]
And sneer on all who cannot change,
Partake his jest with boasting boys;
I envy not his varied joys,
But deem such feeble, heartless man,
Less than yon solitary swan;
Far, far beneath the shallow maid[el]
He left believing and betrayed.
Such shame at least was never mine-- 1180
Leila! each thought was only thine!
My good, my guilt, my weal, my woe,
My hope on high--my all below.
Each holds no other like to thee,
Or, if it doth, in vain for me:
For worlds I dare not view the dame
Resembling thee, yet not the same.
The very crimes that mar my youth,
This bed of death--attest my truth!
'Tis all too late--thou wert, thou art 1190
The cherished madness of my heart! [em]
"And she was lost--and yet I breathed,
But not the breath of human life:
A serpent round my heart was wreathed,
And stung my every thought to strife.
Alike all time, abhorred all place,[en]
Shuddering I shrank from Nature's face,
Where every hue that charmed before
The blackness of my bosom wore.