I.

Between two moments in the life of man An airy bridge divided worlds may span; Fine as the hair which sways beneath a soul By Azrael summon'd to the spectre goal, It springs abrupt from that sharp point in time Where, soft behind us in its orient clime, Lies the lost garden-land of young Romance: Beyond, with cloud upon the cold expanse, Looms rugged Duty;--and betwixt them swell Abysmal deeps, in which to fall were hell. O thou, who tread'st along that trembling line, The stedfast step, the onward gaze be thine! Dread Memory most!--the light thou leav'st would blind, Thy foot betrays thee if thou look behind!

If Constance yet escaped not from the past, At least she strove:--the chain may break at last. Veil'd by the smile, Grief can so safely grieve: Love that confides, a smile can so deceive: And Ruthven kneeling at the altar's base Guess'd not the idol which profaned the place; But smiles forsake when secret hours bestow The angry self-confessional of woe; When trembling thought and stern-eyed conscience meet, And truth rebukes ev'n duty for deceit. Ah! what a world were this if all were known, And smiles on others track'd to tears alone! Oft, had he seem'd less lofty to her eye, Her soul had spoken and confess'd its lie: But sometimes natures least obscured by clay Shine through an awe that scares the meek away; And, near as life may seem to life,--alas! Each hath closed portals, nought but love can pass. Thus the resolve, in absence nursed, forsook Her lip, and died, abash'd, before his look; His foes his virtues--honour seem'd austere, And all most reverenced most provoked the fear.