At length they saw before them rise
The castle tow'rs against the skies.
Ulric but half suppressed the sighs
That heaved his aching heart.
While lights the aged porter brought,
Gay Hubert still his guest besought,
To give to love no further thought,
But scorn the urchin's dart.
"Good night old fellow! come! take cheer!
We'll find a way that brow to clear,
Most excellent! upon my life!
I'll triumph o'er my knowing wife.
At last she'll own me in the right.
Good night! poor wounded stag! Good night.mw-parser-output ._reconstructbracket{font-style:normal;font-weight:normal}⟨.mw-parser-output .wst-tooltip{cursor:help;border-bottom:thin dotted cornflowerblue}.mw-parser-output .wst-tooltip-nodash{border-bottom:none}!"⟩
And to his chamber Ulric stole,
To commune with his guilty soul,
Triumphant yet abash'd.
Such troubled joy as well may greet,
Into Hell's caves, the wanderer's feet,
Across his anguish flash'd.
"She loves me! Vanish doubt and fear!
She loves me! Noonday not more clear!
Or wherefore thus her husband send,
Through midnight wilds, my steps to tend?
Or wherefore from the revel fly?
Aye, wherefore, but because that I
Was absent from the company,
She drank the night's refreshing air?
Why should a faintness call her there?
Or wherefore, with the blush divine,
Her sweet arm stealing into mine,
To that lone bower rove,
Where summer's soft breath through the woo⟨d⟩
And nature's mystic solitude
Attune the soul to love?
Marry! she bids me marry! why?
A woman's sweet revenge, that I
Have come so slow her wish to meet,
And worship at her angel feet.
To mark my bosom swell,
To watch my saddened brow, each day,
The secret of my soul betray,
Which my tongue dare not tell.
Dare not, and need not. Wherefore tell,
What she already knows too well?
And, need I not unfold,
To her, the thought that breaks my rest,
So need I neither ask her breast
What she hath also told.
For was it ever seen or heard
That love must wait for tedious word;
To make his coming known!
Oh, music, flow'rs—the very air—
The smallest trifle sparkles there,
Only his presence to declare,
And, what the lips would never dare—
Full many a sweet and secret way
He findeth, well enough, to say,
In language of his own.
Loves she not me? Oh gentle flow'r!
Dear messenger of that blessed hour!
Thou art her language. In thee lies
The meaning of her downeast eyes.
In thee her breath—her soul are wove,
"The more I see—the more I love."
Hubert! ha! ha! why should I care
For Hubert! He would never spare
Another in a like affair.
Witness his follies past!
True he's my friend; but, tempted so,
Friendship itself awreck must go.
Old ocean hath his whirlwinds, where
The tallest ship careering there—
The mightiest wind and wave to dare—
Must meet her fate at last.
"Oh could I speak with her this night!
"Fool!" said a half-heard whisper, "write!"
He started, for before him lay,
And since at Rudolstadt his stay,
Till now unseen—a virgin sheet,
As if to woo his wandering feet
On, onward to the nearer brink,
Nor wanted pen, nor wanted ink,
All common things conspire.
Nor wanted rapturous thoughts that pressed,
Nor feelings pent within his breast,
Like Ætna’s burning fire.
He seized the pen with trembling hand,
Triumphant in the magic wand;
Beholds her soothing smile arise,
And basks him in her sunny eyes,
Again through forests seems to rove,
And unforbidden pours his love,
While, deeply flowing, swells the tide—
As if she listened at his side.
"I cannot conceal it,
I cannot control,
It is love. It hath entered—
Hath mastered my soul.
I have wept—I have struggled,
All vainly—too strong
Is the current of rapture
That sweeps me along.
I do not demand,
Though my secret be told,
Thy form to my bosom,
One instant to fold.
But only with pity
Thy soft breast to swell—
But only to meet me,
And bid me farewell.
I do not deceive me,
I do not aspire
In thy bosom to kindle
One tender desire!
One thought o'er thy shadowless
Forehead to throw,
That the angel of innocence
Ought not to know.
But I ask for compassion;
I ask thee to bend,
On the pangs of a lover
The look of a friend.
Of a heart that is breaking,
The saviour to be,
A heart that is—Emiline—
Breaking for thee.
I ask thee to pity
To soothe—to advise—
And from madness to save
With one glance of thine eyes.
Thou must meet me, my cousin!
Once more we must stray.
Through those forests, and steal
From the others away.
Once more—oh but once—
We together must rove,
Where we yesterday stood,
In that beautiful grove.
Our parting on earth
Must be, Emiline, there,
Thou art strong—thou art pure—
Nothing fear, and I swear
Thou shalt be as my angel,
Thy lips shall declare,
What thou wilt; and their bidding
Thy slave shall obey,
From thy presence though banished
Forever away.
But, ere I part from thee,
Through life to remain
An exile, and never
To see thee again,
Thou must grant me, my cousin,
That happiness sweet,
Once more to gaze on thee,
To kneel at thy feet.
So—ere to the desert
His journey he takes,
The camel his thirst
At the cool fountain slakes.
Oh refuse not the draught!
For too surely he knows,
O'er the way of the wand'rer,
No more water flows!"
And thus the sheet with passion glowed,
And thus the burning torrent flowed,
When, at his ear, a sudden word
Touched in his heart far different chord.
"Go! to the home of friendship, go!
And o'er its paths thy shadow throw!
A sinless peace thou there wilt find,
But leave a broken heart behind,
A broken heart no love can bind,
With Hell's eternal snakes entwined.
Go! leave remorse, from passion bred,
And blistering tears must not be shed,
Yet cannot be suppressed;
The smothered sigh—the sunken head—
The broken dream—the stealthy tread—
And all the agony and dread
That haunt the guilty breast.
Go! and thy banquet foul prepare!
Go! God's o'erseeing anger dare!
Fool! for thy master, watching there."
"Away with such thoughts!
But a coward would fail
At the whispers of fancy,
A nursery tale!"
"Dangers there are, and dark of hue,
The wise may face—the bold subdue,
But only guilt, not courage, meets,
Untrembling, love's forbidden sweets.
And from the spell of woman's eye,
The bravest is the first to fly."
"Away! be it madness,
Or guilt, or despair!
For my Emiline's sake,
Guilt itself I will bear."
"Ulric be warned! thy angel leaves thee!
The dark one conquers and deceives thee!
He lures thee on, with mock'ry sweet;
While seeming Heaven thy senses greet,
All Hell is yawning at thy feet!
One step—one thought—oh, unbeliever!
Thou plungest down its depths forever.
Up! up! awake! thy foe defy!
Awake! arise! fly! lost one! fly!”
"I cannot fly—it is in vain,
My blood is fired, and reels my brain,
I ne'er shall fly that foe again,
His toils are of myself a part!
Oh God! They are my very heart!
To 'scape Hell's gates let others try,
For me—'tis vain—I cannot fly!"
"Upon the Lord thy burden cast;
He will support thee to the last!
His law, in all thy thoughts, obey!
Oh! Call upon him in thy day
Of trouble. He will lead thy way."
"Sweet Powers of mercy! Could I find,
Oy in her beauty or her mind,
One spot—one blemish—nay, but one—
Reason might rest and dwell upon—
I would resist—I might suppress
This feeling of her loveliness;
But now its sweet waves o'er me roll,
And close my ears—and whelm my soul."
"And what thou ask'st—sincere from Heav'n
And in my name—it shall be given.
It shall be given, although it be
Mountains to cast into the sea."
Now paused the soldier, strong and bold,
The sweat-drops down his forehead rolled.
Then from his hand the sheet he thrust—
And slowly bent, into the dust,
His pale repentant brow!
"Save me! for other there is none,
By whom the battle can be won,
Oh God! but only thou!"
"Yet not enough the fervent prayer,
To foil the Dark One of the air.
Into captivity be brought
Each wand'ring wish—each guilty thought.
Stand fast! spent almost is the night.
Faint not! but walk a child of light."
He rose—in deepest anguish lost,
But would not disobey.
Though sharp the pang that effort cost,
Though still on love's strong billows tost,
He cast the pen away,
Nor paused the fervid sheet to tear,
And threw it to the idle air.
When lo! as Heaven and Hell between
He darkly struggled yet,
There fell the clearest light serene,
By mortal vision ever seen,
When moonbeams gild the fairy green,
Or gleams the gold sunset;
And rustled near a silken wing,
And then a holy voice,
As of an angel whispering,
He heard: "Rejoice! rejoice!
Thy baffled foe—abashed—afraid—
Yielding, hath, for a season, fled;
And God, who reigns on high,
Over thy heart a blessing throws—
Counts all thy fainting steps and knows
Thy hard-won victory.
Henceforth, oh warrior! the reward
Of thy strong faith, a nearer guard
Of angels bright shall be.
And, of the spiritual world,
The inner secrets, half unfurled,
Thy holier eyes shall see.
Be of good cheer! these pangs but prove
Thy breast in mercy and in love;
And teach how certain and how sweet
By Faith, to tread, beneath thy feet,
Earth and its snares! Be strong nor fear!
Fight the good fight; for I am near;
And as the sun, at daybreak bright,
O'er highest peaks doth throw,
First, his ethereal glowing light,
While sleeps the world beneath in night—
So, on thy forehead now,
These heavenly streams of glory shine;
For, ever struggling against sin,
Thy resolute heart hath striven,
And now, upborne in holier birth,
Although thy feet are on the earth,
Thy soul is half in heaven.
But oh beware
Too much to dare!
Nor deem the battle won!
Hell's deep control
Yet sways thy soul,
Released by death alone!"