| I SAID—Then, dearest, since 'tis so, | |
| Since now at length my fate I know, | |
| Since nothing all my love avails, | |
| Since all, my life seem'd meant for, fails, | |
| Since this was written and needs must be— | 5 |
| My whole heart rises up to bless | |
| Your name in pride and thankfulness! | |
| Take back the hope you gave,—I claim | |
| Only a memory of the same, | |
| —And this beside, if you will not blame; | 10 |
| Your leave for one more last ride with me. | |
| |
| My mistress bent that brow of hers, | |
| Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs | |
| When pity would be softening through, | |
| Fix'd me a breathing-while or two | 15 |
| With life or death in the balance: right! | |
| The blood replenish'd me again; | |
| My last thought was at least not vain: | |
| I and my mistress, side by side | |
| Shall be together, breathe and ride, | 20 |
| So, one day more am I deified. | |
| Who knows but the world may end to-night? | |
| |
| Hush! if you saw some western cloud | |
| All billowy-bosom'd, over-bow'd | |
| By many benedictions—sun's | 25 |
| And moon's and evening-star's at once— | |
| And so, you, looking and loving best, | |
| Conscious grew, your passion drew | |
| Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too, | |
| Down on you, near and yet more near, | 30 |
| Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!— | |
| Thus leant she and linger'd—joy and fear! | |
| Thus lay she a moment on my breast. | |
| |
| Then we began to ride. My soul | |
| Smooth'd itself out, a long-cramp'd scroll | 35 |
| Freshening and fluttering in the wind. | |
| Past hopes already lay behind. | |
| What need to strive with a life awry? | |
| Had I said that, had I done this, | |
| So might I gain, so might I miss. | 40 |
| Might she have loved me? just as well | |
| She might have hated, who can tell! | |
| Where had I been now if the worst befell? | |
| And here we are riding, she and I. | |
| |
| Fail I alone, in words and deeds? | 45 |
| Why, all men strive and who succeeds? | |
| We rode; it seem'd my spirit flew, | |
| Saw other regions, cities new, | |
| As the world rush'd by on either side. | |
| I thought,—All labour, yet no less | 50 |
| Bear up beneath their unsuccess. | |
| Look at the end of work, contrast | |
| The petty done, the undone vast, | |
| This present of theirs with the hopeful past! | |
| I hoped she would love me; here we ride. | 55 |
| |
| What hand and brain went ever pair'd? | |
| What heart alike conceived and dared? | |
| What act proved all its thought had been? | |
| What will but felt the fleshly screen? | |
| We ride and I see her bosom heave. | 60 |
| There 's many a crown for who can reach. | |
| Ten lines, a statesman's life in each! | |
| The flag stuck on a heap of bones, | |
| A soldier's doing! what atones? | |
| They scratch his name on the Abbey-stones. | 65 |
| My riding is better, by their leave. | |
| |
| What does it all mean, poet? Well, | |
| Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell | |
| What we felt only; you express'd | |
| You hold things beautiful the best, | 70 |
| And pace them in rhyme so, side by side. | |
| 'Tis something, nay 'tis much: but then, | |
| Have you yourself what 's best for men? | |
| Are you—poor, sick, old ere your time— | |
| Nearer one whit your own sublime | 75 |
| Than we who never have turn'd a rhyme? | |
| Sing, riding 's a joy! For me, I ride. | |
| |
| And you, great sculptor—so, you gave | |
| A score of years to Art, her slave, | |
| And that 's your Venus, whence we turn | 80 |
| To yonder girl that fords the burn! | |
| You acquiesce, and shall I repine? | |
| What, man of music, you grown gray | |
| With notes and nothing else to say, | |
| Is this your sole praise from a friend, | 85 |
| 'Greatly his opera's strains intend, | |
| But in music we know how fashions end!' | |
| I gave my youth: but we ride, in fine. | |
| |
| Who knows what 's fit for us? Had fate | |
| Proposed bliss here should sublimate | 90 |
| My being—had I sign'd the bond— | |
| Still one must lead some life beyond, | |
| Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. | |
| This foot once planted on the goal, | |
| This glory-garland round my soul, | 95 |
| Could I descry such? Try and test! | |
| I sink back shuddering from the quest. | |
| Earth being so good, would heaven seem best? | |
| Now, heaven and she are beyond this ride. | |
| |
| And yet—she has not spoke so long! | 100 |
| What if heaven be that, fair and strong | |
| At life's best, with our eyes upturn'd | |
| Whither life's flower is first discern'd, | |
| We, fix'd so, ever should so abide? | |
| What if we still ride on, we two | 105 |
| With life for ever old yet new, | |
| Changed not in kind but in degree, | |
| The instant made eternity,— | |
| And heaven just prove that I and she | |
| Ride, ride together, for ever ride? | 110 |
