Poems (Hooper)/Leonora d'Esté
LEONORA D'ESTÉ.
I have stolen from the revel, forth to silence and the night,
From the palace of Ferrara and its hall of festal light.
I must smile beneath the lustres; I can weep beneath the stars—
Stars which haply thou art watching through thy dungeon's iron bars.
Dost thou think of me, O Tasso, pent within those stifling walls,
As thy mem'ry haunts me ever in these gay and gilded halls?
I can summon but one phantom from the chambers of my brain:
'Mid the festal music ever sounds the clanking of thy chain.
As the dancers weave their measures, lo, the palace fades away,
And I see a narrow dungeon shut from e'en the light of day;
And beside the lowly pallet, pale, with silver-sprinkled hair,
Bends the form I knew so noble, bends the brow I thought so fair.
Gone the mien erect and princely; gone the glance so high and brave!
Tasso, Tasso, do not curse me; I was powerless to save!
O Alfonso! cruel brother, deaf to every human prayer,
Wouldst thou grant but one petition, hear me once in my despair!
Wouldst thou promise but to free him when this life of mine were done,
He should walk this earth in freedom ere arose to-morrow's sun.
From the palace of Ferrara and its hall of festal light.
I must smile beneath the lustres; I can weep beneath the stars—
Stars which haply thou art watching through thy dungeon's iron bars.
Dost thou think of me, O Tasso, pent within those stifling walls,
As thy mem'ry haunts me ever in these gay and gilded halls?
I can summon but one phantom from the chambers of my brain:
'Mid the festal music ever sounds the clanking of thy chain.
As the dancers weave their measures, lo, the palace fades away,
And I see a narrow dungeon shut from e'en the light of day;
And beside the lowly pallet, pale, with silver-sprinkled hair,
Bends the form I knew so noble, bends the brow I thought so fair.
Gone the mien erect and princely; gone the glance so high and brave!
Tasso, Tasso, do not curse me; I was powerless to save!
O Alfonso! cruel brother, deaf to every human prayer,
Wouldst thou grant but one petition, hear me once in my despair!
Wouldst thou promise but to free him when this life of mine were done,
He should walk this earth in freedom ere arose to-morrow's sun.
I must trust thee to the Future. Time, who still avenges all,
Very surely shall avenge thee, and on me his wrath will fall.
Future generations, bending o'er thy grand majestic song,
Shall amid their praise find curses for the workers of thy wrong.
They will curse the fatal beauty that has wrought thee so much woe;
And my life-long love and sorrow none will ever heed or know.
Ay, the steps of future ages shall thy cell seek as a shrine!
Generations will lament thee. Who will reck these tears of mine?
Not e'en thou, O lov'd so vainly! thou wilt deem thyself forgot!
Thou wilt think my love has withered in the sunshine of my lot.
Would that thou couldst but behold me when my tears fall down like rain!
When I cry aloud to Heaven in mine agony in vain.
Or, couldst see me at the altar, when I bend my knee in prayer—
"Save him, God!" the voiceless accents of my anguish and despair.
God is deaf, and man is cruel; there are none to hear or save.
Thou wilt only leave thy prison through the portals of the grave;
And perchance in yonder heaven we will meet, and I shall tell
How I loved thee, Unforgotten, loved thee ever, and how well!
Very surely shall avenge thee, and on me his wrath will fall.
Future generations, bending o'er thy grand majestic song,
Shall amid their praise find curses for the workers of thy wrong.
They will curse the fatal beauty that has wrought thee so much woe;
And my life-long love and sorrow none will ever heed or know.
Ay, the steps of future ages shall thy cell seek as a shrine!
Generations will lament thee. Who will reck these tears of mine?
Not e'en thou, O lov'd so vainly! thou wilt deem thyself forgot!
Thou wilt think my love has withered in the sunshine of my lot.
Would that thou couldst but behold me when my tears fall down like rain!
When I cry aloud to Heaven in mine agony in vain.
Or, couldst see me at the altar, when I bend my knee in prayer—
"Save him, God!" the voiceless accents of my anguish and despair.
God is deaf, and man is cruel; there are none to hear or save.
Thou wilt only leave thy prison through the portals of the grave;
And perchance in yonder heaven we will meet, and I shall tell
How I loved thee, Unforgotten, loved thee ever, and how well!
And they say that I am dying! Death comes not to such as I:
Life is strong in wretched bosoms; 'tis the blest alone that die.
Roses fade and fall forever in the summer's sunny air;
Withered leaves defy the tempest as they cling to branches bare.
Hark! the music rings exultant, pealing forth a gayer strain!
I must back into the revel; I must wear the mask again.
Smile, O lips, and hide the anguish ye may never dare to speak.
Shine, O eyes, and, like my jewels, flash the while my heart doth break.
Flush, O cheek, to deeper roses; let me bravely act the lie;
Let me smile, and jest, and revel, till God hears me, and I die.
Life is strong in wretched bosoms; 'tis the blest alone that die.
Roses fade and fall forever in the summer's sunny air;
Withered leaves defy the tempest as they cling to branches bare.
Hark! the music rings exultant, pealing forth a gayer strain!
I must back into the revel; I must wear the mask again.
Smile, O lips, and hide the anguish ye may never dare to speak.
Shine, O eyes, and, like my jewels, flash the while my heart doth break.
Flush, O cheek, to deeper roses; let me bravely act the lie;
Let me smile, and jest, and revel, till God hears me, and I die.