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Title: Lady Annabel
Author: Walter R. Cassels [
More Titles by Cassels]
She had suitors many, many,
The fair Lady Annabel,
But she loved him more than any,
For she knew he loved her well.
She was rich, but he was lowly,
Lowly in the world's esteem,
But that made her love more holy,
As the darkness gilds the beam;
For she knew his manly honour,
All the beauties of his mind,
And they sweetly stole upon her
Like the scent borne on the wind;
So she loved him ere she knew it,
Ere she thought to close her heart
'Gainst the tender spells that drew it
Evermore to take his part
When in idlesse or in malice
Others lightly spoke of him,
Careless that in his life's chalice
They poured sadness to the brim;
For he was a dreamer throughly,
Feeding on sweet Poesie,
And few knew his spirit truly,
And none prized it well as she;
But upon the thymy mosses,
With wild flowers by his side,
Blossoms that the summer glosses
For the brow of fairy bride,
He would lie and weave bright fancies
From the maze within his heart,
Which her gentle smiles and glances
Kindled with an angel's art;
For a firmament of beauty
Hung like heaven o'er his mind,
And it seem'd a sacred duty
To hymn all the fair it shrined;
So he praised her golden tresses,
And he thought them fair and soft
As the locks the sun caresses
On bright angels far aloft;
And her eyes so blue and tender,
Made for love to glisten through,
That their gentleness might render
Love as welcome as the dew;
And her cheeks with roses blushing,
And her lips with sunshine drest,
Her white bosom gently hushing
With its swells all ill to rest,
All came to him in his dreaming
Like things from another sphere,
Till bewildered by their gleaming
He felt only they were dear.
Must he perish, must he languish
For the love of one so fair,
Till the cruel sting of anguish
Change a blessing to despair?
He is poor, and favour never
Smiles on one so weak as he,
Poverty still comes to sever
All hopes of felicity.
But she loves him, and communion
With his soul gives strength to hers,
So they blend their lives in union
Careless of cold fashion's slurs;
She resigns what earth calls treasure,
Titled suitors, wealthy-dower,
That is commerce, she seeks pleasure,
For she knows life's but an hour,
Far too short and full of sadness,
Far too full of grief and pain,
For the heart to barter gladness
For a shadow or for gain;
So she fondly stood beside him,
And she placed her hand in his
With a smile that seem'd to chide him
For the shade that veil'd his bliss,
As he thought how he could duly
Make return for all her love,
Only could he serve her truly,
Love her as the light above;
And she said "We will live gaily
In some sylvan hermitage,
Worshipping all beauty daily,
Till my foolish heart grow sage;
We will have sweet flowers about us,
Birds to sing from every tree
No suspicious friends to doubt us,
So we must live merrily!"
Thus they went, and of their marriage
Jesting spake the giddy world;
Nobles, pillow'd in their carriage,
Laugh'd aloud with proud lips curled,
And fair ladies smiled their pity,
With a sigh for mortal folly,
Whilst rich merchants in the city
Frown'd, and called it, "Melancholy."
What they said, or what they ponder'd
Little reck'd fair Annabel,
As with joyous hearts they wander'd
By green vale and shady dell;
And she cried "O! life was never
Made to be ambition's fool,
Bound in fashion's chains, and ever
Banish'd from the Beautiful!"
[The end]
Walter R. Cassels's poem: Lady Annabel
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