After Ten Years
A. L. B. (poet; Cornhill)
A. L. B.
Metadata research and editing
DVPP Project Team
Fukushima
Kailey
University of Victoria Digital Victorian Periodical Poetry Project
Victoria, BC, Canada
In the public domain
The Cornhill Magazine
1
22
132
712–714
Come out beyond this house and garden pale,
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After Ten Years
.
She.
Come out beyond this house and garden pale,
Where I have lived and walked these hopeless years ;
These lonely longsome years, whose only tale
Has been of hope deferr’d, and whose sick tears,
Slow-dropping on my heart, have deadened it,
Till even dreaded pain has lost his sting,
And grown familiar, us’d all day and night,
Beside me close to sit,
And lay his leaden hand on everything
That once was young and quick and warmly bright.
Come out, away ; here I am ever bound,
And only half-alive ; close-clinging weeds
Stifle and wrap my brain ; my heart is wound
In a shroud of ten years’ patience ; here it feeds
On mem’ry’s bitter rind, it cannot wake
To understand your coming, and the life
You say is yet before us ; here each tree,
Each leaf and flower-flake,
Speaks to me of the past, and, like a knife,
The faint sweet smell of lilac pierces me !
How have I spent these years you ask ? Soon told,
The story of my springtime ! Eight years pass’d
In tending him who parted us of old,
Using a father’s right ; and these two last,
After he died (died palsied, mindless, blind),
Have crept by sadly in grey silent days
Free from all care or burden, but alone :
Voices cold or kind
I shrank from ; all too old to change my ways,
For two long years now I have lived alone !
The summers came with tender lilacs twin’d,
And went in rain of rose-leaves falling fast
Upon the sighing, sobbing, autumn wind ;
They killed me with the thought of summers past !
In winter I could better bear my life ;
I took fierce pleasure in the icy snow,
The sullen sky, and dead hard-frozen shore,
And windy moan and strife.
But summer, with its thrill and murm’rous flow,
Its languor of delight—I shrank before !
Come—I remember a deep wood—come quick !
Which for this many a year I have not seen,
So ’tis not poisoned with my fancy sick—
Here through this gate—Oh ! the cool, the green,
Soothes me to quiet, as a mother’s hand
Hushes her restless child ; this quiv’ring light,
And sigh of beechen leaves, this mossy thyme,
The distant purple land
Crowning the long low hills, is like the sight
Of half-forgotten faces ; for that time
When we walked here together, ere you went,
That was the last : then I was young and fair,
And you not grave as now, and gray and bent.
A weary woman, sorrow-touch’d, with hair
And face and form time-changéd, such I’ve grown—
No, no! you cannot want me as you say ;
You say so out of pity ; let me die
As I have liv’d—alone !
How can I share your life? a shadow gray,
To harass and to haunt you—no—not I !
You have had liberty, and change, and choice,
All a man’s part, although beyond the sea,
While I have had to live with my own voice
And face and fancies, and have had to see
My life to autumn fading ere its spring.
Faithful you call me ? Faithful ? Oh, love, no !
Here let me tell you, kneeling at your feet,
Nay, let me weeping cling !
I have been faithless, hard ; and even so,
Of such black doubt I glean the harvest meet !
The day you went youth died. Was it then strange
That faith died too, and tender hope and trust,
And all that keeps us young ? I said, no change
Can henceforth come for me. I basely thrust
Your promise and your solemn oath aside.
For ten long years I have dishonour’d you,
Dishonouring your word, with dark despair
And bitter doubting pride !
You have been faithful—(God reward you !)—true.
But I ?—my love! my love! how could I dare !
He.
You poor woman, hush ! I will not hear
Another word against yourself. I know
Your loveless life of constant care and fear
Spent serving him who laid our love-hopes low.
Hush, listen, for us both I best can speak ;
Rise from your lowly kneeling. By my side,
Close to my heart, sweet wife (for wife you’ll be
Before another week),
Must be your place henceforth ! Long-chosen bride !
Among all women, you alone for me !
I know you better than you know yourself ;
You cannot but be happy with my love,
So strong, so patient. I, who trust myself,
Will make you trust me, and great God above
Will give his blessing, and will make our life
A ceaseless song of joy ; and I shall make
A golden radiance of your eventide ;
So you will trust me, wife !
Poor face, each line is sacred for love’s sake,
I would not wish these ten years’ marks to hide !
Weeping for me has made those eyes so sad ;
Thinking of me has traced that careworn brow !
Now, love, I mean to teach you to be glad,
Now gay and restful, and light-hearted now.
So we will spend our peaceful wedded life,
And in that better life above, believe
That we shall have our spring-time’s green delight !
Give me your hand, my wife ;
Look at the future through my eyes, and weave
Your sad thoughts with my hopes and visions bright !
A. L. B.