Poems (Barrett)/Catarina to Camoens
Catalina to Camoens;
DYING IN HIS ABSENCE ABROAD, AND REFERRING TOTHE POEM IN WHICH HE RECORDED THESWEETNESS OF HER EYES.
On the door you will not enter, I have gazed too long—adieu! Hope withdraws her peradventure— Death is near me,—and not you! Come, O lover, Close and cover These poor eyes, you called, I ween, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
When I heard you sing that burden In my vernal days and bowers, Other praises disregarding, I but hearkened that of yours,— Only saying In heart-playing, "Blessed eyes mine eyes have been, If the sweetest, his have seen!"
But all changeth! At this vesper, Cold the sun shines down the door! If you stood there, would you whisper "Love, I love you," as before,— Death pervading Now, and shading Eyes you sang of, that yestreen, As the sweetest, ever seen?
Yes! I think, were you beside them, Near the bed I die upon,—Though their beauty you denied them, As you stood there, looking down, You would truly Call them duly, For the love's sake found therein,—"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
And if you looked down upon them, And if they looked up to you,All the light which has forgone them Would be gathered back anew They would truly Be as duly Love-transformed to Beauty's sheen,—"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
But, ah me! you only see me In your thoughts of loving man, Smiling soft perhaps and dreamy Through the wavings of my fan,— And unweeting Go repeating, In your reverie serene, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
While my spirit leans and reaches From my body still and pale, Fain to hear what tender speech is In your love, to help my bale— O my poet, Come and show it! Come of latest love to glean "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
O my poet, O my prophet, When you praised their sweetness so, Did you think, in singing of it, That it might be near to go" Had you fancies From their glances, That the grave would quickly screen "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"
No reply! The fountain's warble In the courtyard sounds alone! As the water to the marble So my heart falls with a moan, From love-sighing To this dying! Death forerunneth Love, to win "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
Will you come? when I'm departed Where all sweetnesses are hid—When thy voice, my tender-hearted, Will not lift up either lid. Cry, O lover, Love is over! Cry beneath the cypress green—"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
When the angelus is ringing, Near the convent will you walk, And recall the choral singing Which brought angels down our talk? Spirit shriven I viewed Heaven, Till you smiled—"Is earth unclean, Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"
When beneath the palace-lattice, You ride slow as you have done, And you see a face there—that is Not the old familiar one,— Will you oftly Murmur softly, "Here, ye watched me morn and e'en, Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"
When the palace ladies sitting Round your gittern, shall have said, "Poet, sing those verses written For the lady who is dead,"— Will you tremble, Yet dissemble,—Or sing hoarse, with tears between, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"
Sweetest eyes! How sweet in flowings, The repeated cadence is! Though you sang a hundred poems, Still the best one would be this. I can hear it 'Twixt my spirit And the earth-noise, intervene—"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"
But the priest waits for the praying, And the choir are on their knees,—And the soul must pass away in Strains more solemn high than these Miserere For the weary—Oh, no longer for Catrine, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"
Keep my riband! take and keep it,— I have loosed it from my hair;[1]Feeling, while you overweep it, Not alone in your despair,— Since with saintly Watch, unfaintly, Out of Heaven shall o'er you lean "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
But—but now—yet unremoved Up to Heaven, they glisten fast—You may cast away, Beloved, In your future, all my past; Such old phrases May be praises For some fairer bosom-queen—"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"
Eyes of mine, what are ye doing? Faithless, faithless;—praised amiss, If a tear be on your showing, Dropt for any hope of his! Death hath boldness Besides coldness, If unworthy tears demean "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."
I will look out to his future— I will bless it till it shine! Should he ever be a suitor Unto sweeter eyes than mine, Sunshine gild them, Angels shield them, Whatsoever eyes terrene Be the sweetest his have seen!
- ↑ She left him the riband from her hair.