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Mary Darby Robinson - Petrarch to Laura
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"Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, 
"How often must it love, how often hate, 
"How often hope, despair, resent, regret, 
"Conceal, disdain, do all things, but forget."

- POPE. 


YE silent haunts, ye dark embow`ring shades, 
Lone shaggy wilds and melancholy glades; 
Ye mountains black`ning o`er the thorny vale; 
Ye lucid lakes that trembling meet the gale; 
Ye gloomy avenues of dire despair, 
Dear last asylums of long-cherish`d care; 
Eternal solitudes ! where LOVE retires 
To bathe his wounds, and quench his fatal fires; 
Where frantic, lost, forlorn, and sad I go 
A wand`ring pilgrim in a maze of woe; 
Oh! to your deepest caverns let me fly, 
Breathe a fond pray`r, and `MIDST YOUR HORRORS DIE. 

  Ye sparry grots, ye once ador`d retreats, 
Ye tinkling rills, ye consecrated seats, 
Whose velvet sod embroider`d o`er with flow`rs, 
On the charm`d sense celestial odour pours; 
Ye roseate banks o`erhung with waving trees,
That moan responsive to the murm`ring breeze;
How cold, how desolate your shade appears,
A path of mis`ry thro` a vale of tears.
Now pale Despair hangs brooding o`er your bow`rs,
Absorbs your sweets, and withers all your flow`rs;
Strips the thick foliage from your verdant shades,
And spreads eternal darkness o`er your glades;
No more for ME your sunny banks shall pour
In purple tides ripe Autumn`s luscious store;
No more for ME your lust`rous tints shall glow,
Your forests wave, your silv`ry channels flow;
Yet `midst your heav`n my wounded breast shall crave
One narrow cell, my SOLACE and my GRAVE. 

  Subdu`d, o`erwhelm`d, a with`ring shade I stray, 
Shrink from myself; and shudder at the day: 
No more fond HOPE sustains my sick`ning soul, 
Resistless passion spurns her meek controul; 
Corroding anguish o`er each prospect low`rs, 
Bends my weak frame, my lusty youth devours; 
Clings to my breast where ev`ry fibre bleeds, 
And on its vital throne insatiate feeds. 
Where shall I fly ? what path untrod explore, 
Where love can wound, and memory live no more; 
Where, LAURA, shall I turn, what balsam find 
To soothe the throbbings of my fev`rish mind ?
What blest relief can life`s dull round impart, 
What rapture vivify the hopeless heart; 
What pitying star its beamy stream dispense, 
To light my soul, and cheer my vagrant sense; 
To gild the gloom of desolating woes, 
And lead my wand`ring footsteps to repose? 

  When wild with passion, madd`ning with remorse, 
From AVIGNON`S lov`d walls I bent my course; 
While roll`d in crimson clouds the orb of day, 
O`er seas of ether shed his parting ray; 
As to his western goal he journey`d forth, 
Leaving pale twilight weeping o`er the earth; 
Oft did I pause, oft turn my longing eyes 
To the tall spire that pierc`d the evening skies; 
All was serene ! save when the curfew`s sound 
Struck on my pensive heart with knell profound; 
While Fancy bade my frantic mind explore, 
Those scenes of holy joy I taste no more; 
Unsullied altars, consecrated shrines, 
Where curling incense round each taper twines; 
Where, thro` long aisles, seraphic PÆANS ring, 
And meek-ey`d virgins choral anthems sing! 
Where, like a being of celestial mould, 
My LAURA`S beauteous form I dar`d behold * ! 
While at the shrine her orisons she pour`d, 
Pure as the spirit of the saint ador`d ! 
Oft as the cross her snowy fingers press`d, 
Her auburn tresses veil`d her spotless breast ! 
A shade transparent deck`d her brow divine, 
And bade her eyes with temper`d lustre shine! 
As low she bow`d before the throne of Grace, 
A cherub`s softness harmoniz`d her face; 
A smile benign reveal`d her tranquil soul, 
While from her lips devotion`s fervour stole; 
Each conscious rapture to her share was giv`n, 
Her form was virtue, and her mind was heav`n. 

  Fix`d to the earth with trembling zeal I gaz`d. 
Each passion waken`d, and each sense amaz`d ! 
Involuntary sighs, too soon confess`d 
The struggling tumults lab`ring in my breast; 
No thought sublime on my rapt feelings hung, 
No sacred eloquence unchain`d my tongue; 
ALL, ALL WAS LOVE ! while thro` my burning brain 
Rush`d a fierce torrent of convulsive pain; 
From my dim eyes celestial radiance stole, 
While howling demons grasp`d my sinking soul, 
Guilt`s writhing scorpions twining round my heart, 
Enflam`d each wound, and heighten`d every smart; 
In vain I sought Religion`s calm domain, 
And at her footstool pour`d my hopeless pain; 
The priestess frowning on my impious pray`r, 
Check`d the bold suit, and hurl`d me to despair. 

  AH, LAURA! canst thou seal the dread decree
That tears thy PETRARCH from his GOD and THEE?
That gives his mental hopes, his fond desires
To conscious anguish and consuming fires ?
Canst thou with unrelenting vengeance urge
A trembling soul to fate`s extremest verge;
And while subdu`d it supplicates relief,
Dash the doom`d suff`rer to eternal grief ?
Why, soft enchantress, spread the fatal snare
That lures thy struggling victim to despair ?
Why with meek smiles my wand`ring sense reclaim?
Why feed with pitying looks my hopeless flame?

  Ah! rather come in awful lustre drest, 
Calm my touch`d sense, and lull the fiends to rest; 
Teach me each rebel passion to disown, 
Chill my hot pulse, and freeze my heart to stone: 
With contrite sighs devotion`s flame illume; 
With holy tear-drops gem this mental gloom: 
Come in transcendent VIRTUE`S sacred form, 
Stem the fierce torrent, and appease the storm; 
Grasp the dire bolt suspended o`er my head, 
And o`er my quiv`ring heart-strings patience shed; 
Check with thy councils ev`ry madd`ning flight, 
Direct me trembling to the paths of light; 
Bow my parch`d dip to kiss the chast`ning rod, 
And lead me blushing to the throne of GOD! 

  Where`er I fly, where`er my frenzy roves, 
To pine-clad summits, or low bending groves: 
Still on my shatter`d brain thy form appears, 
Steals to my heart, and glistens thro` my tears: 
Thy voice I hear in ev`ry whispering gale, 
Thy fragrant breath from Citron buds inhale; 
I mark the ROSE in native sweetness drest, 
I snatch the blushing emblem to my breast; 
Thy burnish`d ringlets float across my sight, 
In the last glowing stream of orient light; 
And as the star of morn unfolds its fire, 
Stolen from the glances of its burning sire: 
Thy beaming eyes emit translucent rays, 
The lust`rous heralds of thy soul`s rich blaze! 
A matron`s purity thy smiles impart,
And Heav`n`s best splendours brighten in thy heart; 
Ah! wherefore PETRARCH, wherefore rashly dare 
The dang`rous magic of a form so fair? 

  Yet ere thy pow`r supreme my soul confess`d, 
Ere fainting Virtue fled my burning breast; 
While in its veins one ling`ring spark remain`d, 
One heavenly spark by trembling hope sustain`d; 
VAUCLUSE thy sylvan solitudes I chose 
To cure my passion, or conceal my woes; 
And oft beneath thy melancholy shade 
Reluctant, pensive, half-resolv`d I stray`d; 
And trembling, fault`ring, frequent sighs I pour`d 
Before the shrine of HIM but half ador`d: 
While as the sacred Virgin`s form I view`d 
A brighter IDOL, every sense subdu`d! 
While holy vows were lost in warm desires 
LOVE drop`d a tear that quench`d religion`s fires: 
While thro` my eyes my heart`s true fervour shone, 
And my fond soul, dear Saint, WAS ALL THY OWN! 
Now o`er some craggy peak when frowning night 
Grasps the last shad`wy tint of ruby light; 
When o`er the vast expanse I seek in vain 
The tawny vineyard and the yellow plain; 
Heedless I wander, while the tempest flies, 
Brave the bleak winds, and mock the threat`ning skies. 
Where from the wild romantic cliffs around 
The headlong torrents fall with hollow sound; 
And stealing thro` the winding vale below, 
Unseen, thro` mid-day glooms incessant flow; 
While sullen echo`s aëry tongue betrays, 
Where round her seat each brawling channel strays; 
While the lone owl her lurid haunts among, 
To the pale moon repeats her nightly song; 
While rocks acute, my fev`rish limbs sustain, 
Chill`d by the freezing blast and drizzling rain; 

Madd`ning I see thy glitt`ring phantom rise, 
Spring from the steep, and hover `midst the skies. 
I rave, I howl, from point to point I start, 
While hell`s worst torments riot in my heart; 
I court the fiends my rending pangs to share, 
And prove the PROUDEST TRANSPORTS OF DESPAIR, 
When first to these calm shades I bent my way, 
Led by the light of intellectual ray; 
I mark`d soft peace her gentlest balm diffuse, 
To sooth the hapless HERMIT OF VAUCLUSE! 
Where `midst the foliage of my laurel Ý bow`rs, 
The MUSE had sprinkled never-fading flow`rs; 
Where mild PHILOSOPHY unveil`d her shrine, 
Each care to solace, and each wish refine; 
Whole years my studious eye intent explor`d 
The treasur`d gems by hoary wisdom stor`d! 
Each truth sublime by ancient sages taught, 
Grac`d with the glossy charm of polish`d thought: 
And oft the sickly taper`s feeble rays 
Shrunk from the splendours of the solar blaze, 
While o`er the classic page absorb`d I hung, 
Where HOMER breath`d, or tuneful VIRGIL sung! 
When all was rapture, all was peace, my breast 
No pang endur`d, no wayward thought confess`d! 
Swiftly thy beauty gleam`d across my sight, 
Dim`d the bright flame of transitory light, 
Spurn`d each weak barrier trembling Reason gave, 
And plung`d me vanquish`d in affliction`s wave. 
Yet, yet once more, my aching bosom sought 
A lenient pause from agonizing thought; 
I left these bow`rs o`er foreign realms to stray, 
LOVE lit his torch to guide my thorny way ! 
Mournful I journey`d o`er ITALIA`S lands, 
And moisten`d with my tears SICILIAN sands, 
Where the proud DANUBE`S rushing waters roll, 
I pour`d the madd`ning anguish of my soul. 
O`er ALPINE hills in solitary woe, 
I wept and wander`d `midst eternal snow. 
Oft did I mark the RHONE`S impetuous stream 
By the faint lustre of pale Cynthia`s beam; 
And as the foamy current curl`d along, 
Heard the rocks echo with my frantic song ! 
Where ROME`S majestic ruins tott`ring stand 
The hourly victims of Time`s mould`ring hand; 
Whole nights I`ve trod the tessellated stone, 
While scarce a glimm`ring star in pity shone; 
And starting `midst th` impenetrable gloom, 
Grasp`d the cold fragment of some MARTYR`S tomb, 
And tore the crawling ivy from its bed,
To weave a pillow for my burning head: 
Then rais`d my eyes to GOD in fervent pray`r, 
To end my BEING and my SORROWS there. 
For O! eternal MARTYRDOM I prove,
Heav`n`s doom`d APOSTATE­my fell tyrant, LOVE! 

  When ROME her proud applause exulting gave,
And round my car her laurels stoop`d to wave!
When borne triumphant o`er the sacred ground,
By holy hands with flow`ry chaplets crown`d!
While clanking cymbals echo`d thro` the sky;
And rosy infants bade the censers Ý fly! 

When nation`s throng`d THY POET`S Fame to share, 
And shouts of rapture fill`d the perfum`d air! 
No flush`d delight from adulation caught, 
No selfish joy with false ambition fraught 
Could draw my prostrate soul from LOVE and THEE;
Still at THY shrine I bent the trembling knee! 
For who but THEE, transcendent Angel ! taught 
The flame to live, which kindled every thought? 
For who, like THEE, could heavenly themes inspire, 
Or touch the sensate mind with hallow`d fire, 
Mingling with mortal dust the spark divine, 
That bade my verse with deathless glories shine. 

  In yon cool grot emboss`d with shells and flow`rs, 
Where the hot stream of noon-day light scarce pours; 
Where silence reigns, save when the shallow rill 
With gurgling sound steals o`er the mossy sill; 
While `midst the shadows of the twilight gleam, 
I tun`d my LYRE­thy FATAL CHARMS my theme; 
O`er my chill`d form sleep`s sable curtain hung, 
Veil`d my sad eyes, and chain`d my fault`ring tongue. 
Each sense absorb`d, yet my fond SOUL was free, 
Its thoughts, its faculties, all dwelt with thee; 
Celestial visions hover`d o`er my breast, 
And rose lip`d Angels sooth`d my pangs to rest. 
Their silver harps hung pendant on the sky, 
Bound with unfading wreaths of em`rald die, 
While the wing`d choristers inscrib`d thy name 
On Heav`n`s blue tablet with etherial flame. 
In the bland portal of the rosy East 
AURORA sat in golden mantle drest; 

The silent air in crystal fetters bound, 
Slept on the folded clouds that glisten`d round; 
When to my ravish`d sight thy form was shown, 
The guardian spirit of the sphery throne!
A crown of orient pearls thy brow compress`d, 
A zone of myrtle clasp`d thy iv`ry breast! 
The tear of PITY trembled in thine eye 
Like a bright PLANET in the morning sky!
The blush of HEBE mantled o`er thy cheek, 
When thus thy voice seraphic seem`d to speak: 

  "Freed from the goading chain of mortal care, 
I rove a bless`d inhabitant of air; 
Yet, in delicious extacy I wait, 
Till my lov`d PETRARCH shall partake my fate: 
Death`s but a messenger that brings relief 
To the last pang of sublunary grief. 
THE SOUL, once purified, awaits on those 
Who toil amidst a wilderness of woes: 
It guards the partners of its mortal hours, 
When anguish threatens, or despair devours, 
Shields the frail bosom with a cherub`s wing, 
And robs thy tyrant DEATH of EV`RY STING. 
But see the ruddy dawn`s advancing blaze, 
Tears my fond shadow from thy eager gaze; 
I leave thee in life`s wild`ring vale to rove, 
The mourning victim of disast`rous love: 
Farewell, thy LAURA`S last fond hope is this, 
To meet her PETRARCH in the realms of bliss." 
The vision vanish`d, while my frantic mind 
"Awoke to all the griefs it left behind!"

  Now driven from each vain hope, each fond delight, 
My SUN of glory saddens into night; 
My once bright laurels doom`d, alas ! to fade 
On the pale forehead of a ling`ring shade. 
A living spectre drooping and forlorn, 
A star obscur`d of all its lustre shorn: 
I count my midnight beads, and kneeling, rave, 
On the damp sod my PALLET and my GRAVE. 
Toiling thro` tedious years unseen, unblest, 
Eternal thorns corroding in my breast; 
I fast, I pray, and yet no comfort find; 
Heaven on my lips, but hell within my mind!
I feel THEE ever on my heated brain; 
I weep, I sigh, I supplicate in vain ! 
Or, if by chance one pitying ray of rest 
Warms the sad inmate of my throbbing breast; 
`Tis but a gleam of INTELLECTUAL light 
That feebly glances o`er my MENTAL sight, 
And for a moment dissipates the gloom, 
To point my weary footsteps TO THE TOMB.
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