The Last Ride Together

I.     I said, Then, dearest, since tis so,     Since now at length my fate I know,     Since nothing all my love avails,     Since all, my life seemed meant for, fails,     Since this was written and needs must be     My whole heart rises up to bless     Your name in pride and thankfulness!     Take back the hope you gave, I claim     Only a memory of the same,     And this beside, if you will not blame,     Your leave for one more last ride with me. II.     My mistress bent that brow of hers;     Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs     When pity would be softening through,     Fixed me, a breathing-while or two,     With life or death in the balance: right!     The blood replenished me again;     My last thought was at least not vain:     I and my mistress, side by side     Shall be together, breathe and ride,     So, one day more am I deified.     Who knows but the world may end tonight? III.     Hush! if you saw some western cloud     All billowy-bosomed, over-bowed     By many benedictions suns     And moons and evening-stars at once     And so, you, looking and loving best,     Conscious grew, your passion drew     Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too,     Down on you, near and yet more near,     Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!     Thus leant she and lingered joy and fear!     Thus lay she a moment on my breast. IV.     Then we began to ride. My soul     Smoothed itself out, a long-cramped scroll     Freshening and fluttering in the wind.     Past hopes already lay behind.     What need to strive with a life awry?     Had I said that, had I done this,     So might I gain, so might I miss.     Might she have loved me? just as well     She might have hated, who can tell!     Where had I been now if the worst befell?     And here we are riding, she and I. V.     Fail I alone, in words and deeds?     Why, all men strive and who succeeds?     We rode; it seemed my spirit flew,     Saw other regions, cities new,     As the world rushed by on either side.     I thought, All labour, yet no less     Bear up beneath their unsuccess.     Look at the end of work, contrast     The petty done, the undone vast,     This present of theirs with the hopeful past!     I hoped she would love me; here we ride. VI.     What hand and brain went ever paired?     What heart alike conceived and dared?     What act proved all its thought had been?     What will but felt the fleshly screen?     We ride and I see her bosom heave.     Theres many a crown for who can reach,     Ten lines, a statesmans life in each!     The flag stuck on a heap of bones,     A soldiers doing! what atones?     They scratch his name on the Abbey-stones.     My riding is better, by their leave. VII.     What does it all mean, poet? Well,     Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell     What we felt only; you expressed     You hold things beautiful the best,     And pace them in rhyme so, side by side.     Tis something, nay tis much: but then,     Have you yourself whats best for men?     Are you poor, sick, old ere your time     Nearer one whit your own sublime     Than we who never have turned a rhyme?     Sing, ridings a joy! For me, I ride. VIII.     And you, great sculptor, so, you gave     A score of years to Art, her slave,     And thats your Venus, whence we turn     To yonder girl that fords the burn!     You acquiesce, and shall I repine?     What, man of music, you grown grey     With notes and nothing else to say,     Is this your sole praise from a friend,     Greatly his operas strains intend,     Put in music we know how fashions end!     I gave my youth; but we ride, in fine. IX.     Who knows whats fit for us? Had fate     Proposed bliss here should sublimate     My being, had I signed the bond     Still one must lead some life beyond,     Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried.     This foot once planted on the goal,     This glory-garland round my soul,     Could I descry such? Try and test!     I sink back shuddering from the quest.     Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?     Now, heaven and she are beyond this ride. X.     And yet, she has not spoke so long!     What if heaven be that, fair and strong     At lifes best, with our eyes upturned     Whither lifes flower is first discerned,     We, fixed so, ever should so abide?     What if we still ride on, we two     With life for ever old yet new,     Changed not in kind but in degree,     The instant made eternity,     And heaven just prove that I and she     Ride, ride together, for ever ride?