267. EBB to Edward Moulton-Barrett (father)
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 2, 66–68.
[Hope End]
Scene. The Kiosk.
May 28th 1827. [1]
Have we met here one & all
To our noisy festival?
Rain we flowers, around, beneath,
Fill the vase, & bind the wreath!
Shake the dew away! yet stay–
Shall we shake the dew away?
Dew, which is the latest sign
Of night, looks gracious in the shine,
As many a pleasant thought is won
From sorrow, when the pain is done.
Thus a heart at ease, recieves
Homilies from dew & leaves.
Sit we on the green green grass,
Where the sunshine wont to pass,—
We have claim to equal right,
Having breasts at least as bright,—
And may therefore sharers be
In his home of royalty.
Sit we on the grass—& thus
Let the trees look down on us:
We may spy the welkin blue
Prying those top branches thro’,
As it would be jovial too!
We might listen to the birds,
But prefer our own wild words–
Speak we merry words—& after
We will ring their knell in laughter.–
For our spirits backward flee
In the path of memory,
Where, uncompanied by woe,
Like our garden winds they go–
Touching every thing they meet–
Touching nought but what is sweet!
One hour hence—& we shall all
Leave this home of festival!
Where, if stranger’s footsteps tread,
He will find the revel fled–
He will find our places lonely—
Few signs of our presence—only
Wreathëd flowers our hands have gathered,
Lying all about half withered—
And the grass which we have prest
Somewhat dimmer than the rest!
Out, alas! Decay is seen
Marking, aye, where Joy hath been!–
Such are dull moralities!
We will have no thoughts like these!
Where our wreathëd flowers are reft,
Where our faded seats are left,
None will come, but birds & bees!
If men should come, they will guess
“Here was place of happiness”!
And may soothly learn, that tho’
We, the revellers, from it go,
Take we, in our secret mind,
What we seem to leave <be>hind—
Flower, & grass, & leafy cover,
& the sunshine spreading over!
For that, while we still are nearest
Unto thee, who aye art dearest,–
While we may croud around thee thus,
Knowing thou, too, lovest us,—
Thou & we may cozen space,
Aye! & Time! & make, together,
Fairy scene in any place—
Summer day in any weather!
Beloved Papa’s most affectionate Ba.
Publication: Marks, p. 363 (in part).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. His 42nd birthday.
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