Conclusion

Bertram finished the last pages, while along the silence everStill in hot and heavy splashes fell the tears on every leaf.Having ended, he leans backward in his chair, with lips that quiverFrom the deep unspoken, ay, and deep unwritten thoughts of grief.

Soh! how still the lady standeth! 'T is a dream--a dream of mercies!'Twixt the purple lattice-curtains how she standeth still and pale!'T is a vision, sure, of mercies, sent to soften his self curses,Sent to sweep a patient quiet o'er the tossing of his wail.

"Eyes," he said, "now throbbing through me! are ye eyes that did undome?Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian statue-stone!Underneath that calm white forehead are ye ever burning torridO'er the desolate sand-desert of my heart and life undone?"

With a murmurous stir uncertain, in the air the purple curtainSwelleth in and swelleth out around her motionless pale brows,While the gliding of the river sends a rippling noise for everThrough the open casement whitened by the moonlight's slant repose.

Said he--"Vision of a lady! stand there silent, stand there steady!Now I see it plainly, plainly now I cannot hope or doubt--There, the brows of mild repression--there, the lips of silent passion,Curved like an archer's bow to send the bitter arrows out."

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling,And approached him slowly, slowly, in a gliding measured pace;With her two white hands extended as if praying one offended,And a look of supplication gazing earnest in his face.

Said he--"Wake me by no gesture,--sound of breath, or stir of vesture!Let the blessed apparition melt not yet to its divine!No approaching--hush, no breathing! or my heart must swoon to death inThe too utter life thou bringest, O thou dream of Geraldine!"

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling,But the tears ran over lightly from her eyes and tenderly:--"Dost thou, Bertram, truly love me? Is no woman far above meFound more worthy of thy poet-heart than such a one as I?"

Said he--"I would dream so ever, like the flowing of that river,Flowing ever in a shadow greenly onward to the sea!So, thou vision of all sweetness, princely to a full completenessWould my heart and life flow onward, deathward, through this dream ofTHEE!"

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling,While the silver tears ran faster down the blushing of her cheeks;Then with both her hands enfolding both of his, she softly told him,"Bertram, if I say I love thee, ... 't is the vision only speaks."

Softened, quickened to adore her, on his knee he fell before her,And she whispered low in triumph, "It shall be as I have sworn.Very rich he is in virtues, very noble--noble, certes;And I shall not blush in knowing that men call him lowly born."