Part 34 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XX.

EX TENEBRA.

The winds have shower'd their rains upon the sod, And flowers and trees have murmur'd as with lips.

The very silence has appeal'd to G.o.d.

In man's behalf, though smitten by His rod, 'Twould seem as if the blight of some eclipse Had dull'd the skies,--as if, on mountain tips, The winds of Heaven had spurn'd the life terrene, And clouds were foundering like benighted s.h.i.+ps.

But what is this, exultant, unforseen, Which cleaves the dark? A fearful, burning thing!

Is it the moon? Or Saturn's scarlet ring Hurl'd into s.p.a.ce? It is the tempest-sun!

It is the advent of the Phoeban king Which tells the valleys that the storm is done!

XXI.

VICTOR HUGO.

Victor the King! alive to-day, not dead!

Behold, I bring thee with a subject's hand A poor pale wreath, the best at my command, But all unfit to deck so grand a head.

It is the outcome of a neighbour land Denounced of thee, and spurn'd for many years.

It is the token of a nation's tears Which oft has joy'd in thee, and shall again.

Love for thy hate, applause for thy disdain,-- These are the flowers we spread upon thy hea.r.s.e.

We give thee back, to-day, thy poet-curse; We call thee friend; we ratify thy reign.

Kings change their sceptres for a funeral stone, But thou hast turn'd thy tomb into a throne!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XXII.

CYNTHIA.

O Lady Moon, elect of all the spheres To be the guardian of the ocean-tides, I charge thee, say, by all thy hopes and fears, And by thy face, the oracle of brides, Why evermore Remorse with thee abides?

Is life a bane to thee, and fraught with tears, That thus forlorn and sad thou dost confer With ghosts and shades? Perchance thou dost aspire To bridal honours, and thy Phoebus-sire Forbids the banns, whoe'er thy suitor be?

Is this thy grievance, O thou chief of nuns?

Or dost thou weep to know that Jupiter Hath many moons--his daughters and his sons-- And Earth, thy mother, only one in thee?

XXIII.