114. EBB to Charles John Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 1, 104.
To my <belo>ved Storm.
On his birthday–
Hope End December 1820. [1]
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Wake Muses wake! and oer the echoing strings
Of the melodious pipe or soft tuned lute
Your gay, light fingers fly on fancys wing
Nor bid the voice of joy be mute!!—
A Smile, young eyed Hope on the sweet lyre flings
Like pleasures rainbow on youths soft skies.
Mirth from her couch of roses springs
And Heaven seems to smile in the light of her eyes!—
Awake from sleep’s long trance
Nymphs of the flood and Spirits unseen
Fauns of the wild woods glance
Joy, upon the beautiful scene
And sylvan Satyrs dance!——
And thou my Storm accept my humble lay
Tis all, my child, a sister can bestow
Then let one sweet smile from those bright eyes play
Nor knit thy brows and proudly answer “no”!
I will not bless thee it were vain to bless—
Tho justly dear & cherished, love, thou art
For how can words the souls own thoughts express
And what can speak the language of the heart?
Your own affecte Ba–
Address and date, on integral page: Decr 28th 1820. / To Ba’s own Storm who is so dear to all of us and who merits our affection by his industry and his cleverness!—— / Long live the Queen!
Publication: Marks, pp. 323–324 (in part).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. His sixth birthday fell on 28 December 1820.
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