Fringilla: Some Tales in Verse by Richard Doddridge Blackmore (black books to read TXT) 📖

the test whereon to try thee;
Nature and heaven shall take my part:
Come, show this rival; I defy thee
And all thy art."

A mirror, held in readiness,
He set upright before her feet--
"Now can thy simple charms compete
With beauty such as this?"

XIV

A lovelier sight therein she saw
Than ever yet had charmed her eyes,
A fairer picture, void of flaw,
Than any, even Paradise
Itself, could draw;

A woman's form of perfect grace,
In shadowy softness delicate;
Though flushed by sunset's rich embrace,
A white rose could not imitate
Her innocent face:

Then, through the deepening glance of fear,
The shaft of doubt came quivering,
The sorrow-shaft--a sigh its wing,
And for its barb a tear.

XV

"Ah me!" she cried, "too true it is!
A simple homely thing, like Eve,
Hath not a chance to rival this,
But must resign herself to grieve
O'er by-gone bliss.

"Till now it was enough for me
To be what God our Father made;
Oh, Adam, I was proud to be
(As I have felt, and thou hast said)
A part of thee.

"No marvel that my lord can spare
His true and heaven-appointed bride.
And yet affection might have tried
To fancy me as fair."

XVI

The Tempter, glorying in his wile,
Hath ta'en his mirror and withdrawn;
Again the flowers look up and smile,
And brightens off from air and lawn
The taint of guile.

But smiles come not again to Eve,
Nor brightens off her dark reflection:
Her garland-crown she hath ceased to weave,
And, plucking, maketh no selection;
Only to grieve.

She feels a dewy radiance steep
The languid petals of her eyes,
And hath another sad surprise,
To know the way to weep,

PART II

The tears were still in woman's eyes,
When morn awoke on Paradise;
And still her sense of shame forbade
To tell her grievance, or upbraid;
Nor knew she which was dearer cost,
To seek him, or to shun him most
Then Adam, willing to believe
A heart by casual fancy moved
Would soon come back, at voice she loved,
Addressed his song to Eve.

I

"Come fairest, while the morn is fair,
And dews are bright as yon clear eyes;
Calm down this tide of troubled hair,
Forget with me all other sighs
Than summer air.

"Like me, the woodland shadows roam
At light (their fairer comrade's) side;
And peace and joy salute our home;
And lo, the sun in all his pride--
My sunshine, come!

"The fawns and birds, that know our call,
Are waiting for our presence--see,
They wait my presence, love; and thee,
The most desired of all.

II

"The trees, which thought it grievous thing
To weep their own sweet leaves away,
Untaught as yet how soon the Spring
Upon their nestled heads should lay
Her callow wing--

"The trees, whereat we smiled again,
To see them, in their growing wonder,
Suppose their buds were verdant rain,
Until the gay winds rustled under
Their feathered train,

"Lo, now they stand in braver mien,
And, claiming stronger shadow-right,
Make prisoner of the intrusive light,
And strew the winds with green.

III

"Of all the flowers that bow the head,
Or gaze erect on sun and sky,
Not one there is, declines to sned,
Or standeth up, to qualify
His incense-meed:

"Of all that blossom one by one,
Or join their lips in loving cluster,
Not one hath now resolved alone,
Or taken counsel, that his lustre
Shall be unshown.

"So let thy soul a blossom be,
To breathe the fragrance of its praise,
And lift itself, in early days,
To Him who fosters thee.

IV

"Of all the founts, bedropped with light,
Or silver-tress'd with shade of trees,
Not one there is, but sprinkles bright
It's plume of freshness on the breeze,
And jewelled flight:

"Of all that hush among the moss,
Or babble to the lily-vases,
Not one there is but purls across
A gush of the delight, that causes
It's limpid gloss.

"So let thy heart a fountain be,
To rise in sparkling joy, and fall
In dimpled melody--and all
For love of home, and me."

V

The only fount her heart became
Rose quick with sighs, and fell in tears;
While pink upon her white cheek came,
(Like apple-blossom among pear's)
The tinge of shame.

Her husband, pierced with new alarm,
Bent nigh to ask of her distresses,
Enclasping her with sheltering arm,
Unwinding by discreet caresses,
The thread of harm.

Then she, with sobs of slow relief
(For silence is the jail of care)
Confessed, for him to heal or share,
The first of human grief.

VI

"I cannot look on thee, and think
That thou has ceased to hold me dear;
I cannot break the loosened link:
When thou, my only one, art near,
How can I shrink?

"So it were better, love--I mean,
My lord, it is more wise and right--
That I, as one whose day hath been,
Should keep my pain from pleasure's sight,
And dwell unseen.

"And--though it break my heart to say--
However sad my loneliness,
I fear thou wouldst rejoice in this--
To have me far away.

VII

"I know not how it is with man,
Perhaps his nature is to change,
On finding consort fairer than--
But oh, I cannot so arrange