THE DREAM, AND OTHER POEMS.
BY THEHONBLE. MRS. NORTON.
DEDICATED TO HER GRACE THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND. “We have one human heart,— All mortal thoughts confess a common home.” Shelley.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1840.LONDON: Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES and SONS, Stamford Street.
CONTENTS.
- Dedication V
- THE DREAM 1
- Notes 73
- THE CREOLE GIRL; or, The Physician's Story 77
- TWILIGHT 97
- A DESTINY 109
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES:
- The Chapel Royal St. James's, on the 10th February, 1840 125
- Notes 131
- On seeing Anthony, the eldest Child of Lord and Lady Ashley 133
- The Dying Hour 137
- I Cannot Love Thee! 143
- The Poet's Choice 153
- The German Student's Love-Song 157
- The Hunting-Horn of Charlemagne 162
- The Faithful Friend 167
- To Ferdinand Seymour 175
- The Winter's Walk—(Written after walking with Mr. Rogers) 178
- The Reprieve 184
- The Faithful Guardian 189
- The Forsaken 193
- The Visionary Portrait 198
- The Picture of Sappho 202
- page: iv
- The Sense of Beauty 206
- The Mother's Heart 212
- May-Day, 1837 216
- The Fever-Dream 219
- To the Lady H.O. 223
- The Fallen Leaves 227
- The Autumn Wind 230
- The Blind Man's Bride 233
- The Widow to her Son's Betrothed 237
- The Tryst 241
- The Banner of the Covenanters 243
- The Rock of the Betrayed 249
- The Lament for Shuil Donald's Daughter 261
- Weep not for Him that Dieth! 264
- * The Child of Earth* 266
- The Christening of my Brother's Infant Son 269
- The Mother's Last Watch 275
SONNETS
- I. On seeing the bust of the young Princess de Montfort 283
- II. and III. Raphael and the Fornarina 284
- IV. V. VI. VII. Love Sonnets 286
- VIII. To my Books 290
- IX. To the Countess Heléne Zavadowsky 291
- X. To Taglioni 292
- XI. The Moss-Walk at Markly, Sussex 293
- XII. The Disdained Lover 294
- XIII. The Weaver 295
- XIV. From the Spanish 296
- XV. To Miss Augusta Cowell 297
- XVI. XVII. Princess Marie of Wirtemburg 298
- XVIII. XIX. On hearing of the death of the Countess of Burlington 300
* This, and several of the preceding pieces, have appeared in print, in the Annuals, &c.
page: vDEDICATION.
- ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought
- Never to wake thy silent strings again,
- A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought,
- And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain,
- Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough,
- Into the poet's Heaven, and leaves dull grief below!
- And unto Thee—the beautiful and pure—
- Whose lot is cast amid that busy world
- Where only sluggish Dulness dwells secure,
- And Fancy's generous wing is faintly furl'd;
- To thee—whose friendship kept its equal truth
- Through the most dreary hour of my embitter'd youth—
- I dedicate the lay. Ah! never bard,
- In days when Poverty was twin with song;
- Nor wandering harper, lonely and ill-starr'd;
- Cheer'd by some castle's chief, and harboured long;
- Not Scott's “Last Minstrel,” in his trembling lays,
- Woke with a warmer heart the earnest meed of praise!
- For easy are the alms the rich man spares
- To sons of Genius, by misfortune bent,
- But thou gav'st me, what woman seldom dares,
- Belief—in spite of may a cold dissent—
- When slandered and maligned, I stood apart,
- From those whose bounded power, hath wrung, not crushed, my heart.
- Then, then, when cowards lied away my name,
- And scoff'd to see me feebly stem the tide;
- When some were kind on whom I had no claim,
- And some forsook on whom my love relied,
- And some, who might have battled for my sake,
- Stood off in doubt to see what turn “the world” would take—
- Thou gavest me that the poor do give the poor,
- Kind words, and holy wishes, and true tears;
- The loved, the near of kin, could do no more,
- Who changed not with the gloom of varying years,
- But clung the closer when I stood forlorn,
- And blunted Slander's dart with their indignant scorn.
- For they who credit crime are they who feel
- Their own hearts weak to unresisted sin;
- Mem'ry, not judgment, prompts the thoughts which steal
- O'er minds like these, an easy faith to win;
- And tales of broken truth are still believed
- Most readily by those who have themselves deceived.
- But, like a white swan down a troubled stream,
- Whose ruffling pinion hath the power to fling
- Aside the turbid drops which darkly gleam
- And mar the freshness of her snowy wing,—
- So Thou, with queenly grace and gentle pride,
- Along the world's dark waves in purity dost glide;
- Thy pale and pearly cheek was never made
- To crimson with a faint false-hearted shame;
- Thou didst not shrink,—of bitter tongues afraid,
- Who hunt in packs the object of their blame;
- To Thee the sad denial still held true,
- For from thine own good thoughts thy heart its mercy drew.
- And, though my faint and tributary rhymes
- Add nothing to the glory of thy day,
- Yet every Poet hopes that after-times
- Shall set some value on his votive lay,—
- And I would fain one gentle deed record
- Among the many such with which thy life is stored.
- So, when these lines, made in a mournful hour,
- Are idly open'd to the Stranger's eye,
- A dream of THEE, aroused by Fancy's power,
- Shall be the first to wander floating by;
- And they who never saw thy lovely face,
- Shall pause,—to conjure up a vision of its grace!