Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Ruined House

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For other versions of this work, see The Ruined House.

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 25, Pages 526-527


THE RUINED HOUSE.BY FELICIA HEMANS.

"Oh! 'tis the heart that magnifies this life,
Making a truth and beauty of its own."—Wordsworth.

"Birth has gladdened it; Death has sanctified it."—Guesses at Truth.


No dower of storied song is thine,
    O desolate abode!
Forth from thy gates no glittering line
    Of lance and spear hath flow'd:
Banners of Knighthood have not flung
    Proud drapery o'er thy walls,
Nor bugle-notes to battle rung
    Through thy resounding halls.

Nor have rich bowers of Pleasaunce here
    By courtly hands been dress'd,
For princes, from the chase of deer,
    Under green leaves to rest:
Only some rose, yet lingering bright
    Beside thy casements lone,
Tells where the Spirit of Delight
    Hath dwelt, and now is gone.

Yet minstrel-tale of harp and sword,
    And sovereign Beauty's lot,
House of quench'd light and silent board!
    For me thou needest not.
It is enough to know that here,
    Where thoughtfully I stand,
Sorrow and Love, and Hope and Fear,
    Have link'd one kindred band.

Thou bindest me with mighty spells!
    —A solemnizing breath,
A presence all around thee dwells
    Of human life and death.
I need but pluck yon garden-flower
    From where the wild weeds rise,
To wake, with strange and sudden power,
    A thousand sympathies!


Thou hast heard many sounds, thou hearth,
    Deserted now by all!
Voices at eve here met in mirth,
    Which eve may ne'er recall.
Youth's buoyant step, and Woman's tone,
    And Childhood's laughing glee,
And song, and prayer, have well been known,
    Hearth of the Dead! to thee.

Thou hast heard blessings fondly pour'd
    Upon the infant-head,
As if in every fervent word
    The living soul were shed:
Thou hast seen partings—such as bear
    The bloom from Life away—
Alas! for Love in changeful air,
    Where nought beloved can stay!

Here, by the restless bed of Pain,
    The vigil hath been kept,
Till sunrise, bright with Hope in vain,
    Burst forth on eyes that wept:
Here hath been felt the hush, the gloom,
    The breathless influence shed
Through the dim dwelling, from the room
    Wherein reposed the dead.

The seat left void, the missing face,
    Have here been mark'd and mourn'd;
And Time hath fill'd the vacant place,
    And Gladness hath return'd:
Till from the narrowing household chain
    The links dropp'd, one by one;
And homeward hither o'er the main
    Came the Spring-birds alone.

Is there not cause then—cause for thought,
    Fix'd eye, and lingering tread,
Where, with their thousand mysteries fraught,
    Ev'n lowliest hearts have bled?
Where, in its ever-haunting thirst
    For draughts of purer day,
Man's soul, with fitful strength, hath burst
    The clouds that wrapt its way?

Holy to human nature seems
    The long-forsaken spot!
To deep affections, tender dreams,
    Hopes of a brighter lot!
Therefore in silent reverence here,
    Hearth of the Dead! I stand,
Where Joy and Sorrow, Smile and Tear,
    Have link'd one kindred band.