126. EBB to Samuel Moulton-Barrett (uncle)
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 1, 121–122.
[Hope End]
Ode to my ever dearest Sam
on his birthday
March 31st 1821 [1]
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It is not that my heart is sad
Tho’ to my eyes these tears will gush
For Poesy’s sweet soul is glad
And wildly pure her numbers rush!
It is not that youth steps less lightly
On unculled flowers in garlands wreathing
It is not that Joy smiles less brightly
On young Hopes cradle—gently breathing
On the slumb’ring form of Care
That still sleeps gently, sweetly there!!
Grief wakes not yet, & smiling Bliss
With laughing taunts assails her foe!
It is not—no! it is not this
That bids these tears unbidden flow!
Tis gratitude that swells my breast
And bursts in rapture o’er those wires,
Swims in the tear drop unreprest
And triumphs when the strain expires!!
And thus beloved, and justly dear
The strain untrue thou wilt not deem
But think the lonely heart sincere
That trifles on so dear a theme!
For Ah! when sweet affection sings,
Natures untutored, prattling child,
Her numbers flow untaught & wild!
And here, a radiant smile she flings
Refulgent on the glittering wire—
And there perchance, she knows not why
Her musical sweetness trembles in a sigh!!
And tho’ amidst the Senates lofty walls
Amidst the thunders of a worlds applause
When Tyranny, another Cæsar falls
And Patriots triumph in their Country’s Cause!
Tho’ round thy head, th’ immortal laurel twine
Which graced a Russells or a Sydneys tomb
(In spite of “Couriers” and the right divine)
With incorruptible, eternal bloom
Tho Fame’s loud trump oerwhelm my sighing lyre
And drown those numbers that would strive to bless
Tho’ absence bid the ling’ring notes expire
Yet—dearest Patriot wilt thou love me less??
Your own affecte child
Ba.
Publication: None traced.
Source: Copy in Mary Moulton-Barrett’s hand in “Poems by EBB,” Berg Collection.
1. His 34th.
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