Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Isabel
For other versions of this work, see Isabel (Tennyson).
ISABEL.
Eyes not downdropt nor overbright, but fedWith the clearpointed flame of chastity,Clear, without heat, undying, tended byPure vestal thoughts in the translucent faneOf her still spirit: locks not wide dispread,Madonna-wise on either side her head,Sweet lips whereon perpetually did reignThe summercalm of golden charity, Were fixéd shadows of thy fixed mood,Revered Isabel, the crown and head,The stately flower of female fortitude,Of perfect wifehood and pure lowlihead.
The intuitive decision of a brightAnd thoroughedgéd intellect to partError from crime—a prudence to withhold—The laws of wifehood charactered in goldUpon the blenched tablets of her heart—A love still burning upward giving lightTo read those laws—an accent very lowIn blandishment, but a most silver flowOf subtlepacéd counsel in distress,Right to the heart and brain, though undescried,Winning its way with extreme gentlenessThrough all the outworks of suspicious pride—A courage to endure and to obey—A hate of gossip parlance, and of sway,Crowned Isabel, through all her placid lifeThe queen of marriage, a most perfect wife.
The mellowed reflex of a wintermoon—A clear stream flowing with a muddy one,Till in its onward current it absorbsWith swifter movement and in purer lightThe vexéd eddies of its wayward brother—A leaning and upbearing parasite,Clothing the stem, which else had fallen quite,With clustered flowerbells and ambrosial orbsOf rich fruitbunches leaning on each other—Shadow forth thee:—the world hath not another(Though all her fairest forms are types of thee,And thou of God in thy great charity),Of such a finished chastened purity.