CANTO IV. HOW THE BRIDE RETURNED TO RAVENNA. SORROW, they say, to one with true touched ear, A lurking contrast, which though harsh it be, E'en tales like this, founded on real woe, The woe was earthly, fugitive, is past; The song that sweetens it, may always last. And even they, whose shattered hearts and frames Make them unhappiest of poetic names, What are they, if they know their calling high, Or weeping clouds, that but a while are seen, Once, and but once,-nor with a scornful face Tried worth will hear,-that scene again took place. Partly by chance they met, partly to see The spot where they had last gone cheerfully, But most, from failure of all self-support ;-And oh! the meeting in that loved resort! No peevishness there was, no loud distress, selfishness; No mean retort of sorry But a mute gush of hiding tears from one Clasped to the core of him, who yet shed none,— And self-accusings then, which he began, And into which her tearful sweetness ran; And then kind looks, with meeting eyes again, Till half persuasions they could scarce do wrong, And why should I add more?—again they parted, He doubly torn for her, and she nigh broken-hearted. She never ventured in that spot again; And Paulo knew it, but could not refrain; The calm, old shade!-his presence felt rebuked. A vain negation, that could stand no test; And that on waking from his idle fit, He found himself (how could he think of it!) A selfish boaster, and a hypocrite. That thought before had grieved him; but the pain Cut sharp and sudden, now it came again. Sick thoughts of late had made his body sick, And this, in turn, to them grown strangely quick; And pale he stood, and seemed to burst all o'er Into moist anguish never felt before, And with a dreadful certainty to know, His peace was gone, and all to come was woe. Francesca too, the being, made to bless,- Nor what can cure a generous heart of pain,— He thought, with quick philosophy, of things Merit, and will, and thoughtful charity: And these, although they pushed down, as they rose, His self-respect, and all those morning shews |