William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
A Vision of RepentanceCharles Lamb (17751834)
I
Where shady pathways to a valley led;
A weeping willow lay upon that stream,
And all around the fountain brink were spread
Wide branching trees, with dark green leaf rich clad
Forming a doubtful twilight, desolate and sad.
Disrobèd was of every earthly thought,
And straight became as one that knew not sin,
Or to the world’s first innocence was brought;
Enseem’d it now, he stood on holy ground,
In sweet and tender melancholy wrapt around.
Long time I stood, and longer had I stayed,
When lo! I saw, saw by the sweet moonlight,
Which came in silence o’er that silent shade,
Where, near the fountain, Something like Despair
Made, of that weeping willow, garlands for her hair.
Many an uncouth stem of savage thorn—
‘The willow garland, that was for her love,
And these her bleeding temples would adorn.
With sighs her heart nigh burst,—salt tears fast fell,
As mournfully she bended o’er that sacred well.
She lifted up her eyes, and nothing said;
The delicate red came mantling o’er her cheek,
And, gathering up her loose attire, she fled
To the dark covert of that woody shade,
And in her goings seem’d a timid gentle maid.
And why that lovely lady plainèd so;
Perplexed in thought at that mysterious scene,
And doubting if ’twere best to stay or go,
I cast mine eyes in wistful gaze around,
When from the shades came slow a small and plaintive sound:
In these brown shades, this woody dell,
Where never busy mortal came,
Till now, to pry upon my shame.
The Waters of Repentance be,
Which, night and day, I must augment
With tears, like a true penitent,
Be not yet past; and this lone place,
O’ershadowy, dark, excludeth hence
All thoughts but grief and penitence.’
And wherefore in this barren shade
Thy hidden thoughts with sorrow feed?
Can thing so fair repentance need?’
And tainted is my virgin fame,
And stained the beauteous maiden white
In which my bridal robes were dight.’
And what those bridal garments were?’
Composed the clear white bridal dress;
Jesus, the son of Heaven’s high King,
Bought with His blood the marriage-ring.
Deemed lightly of that sacred tie,
Gave to a treacherous world my heart,
And play’d the foolish wanton’s part.
To hide from the Sun’s light my shame.—
And still I haunt this woody dell,
And bathe me in that healing well,
Whose waters clear have influence
From sin’s foul stains the soul to cleanse;
And, night and day, I them augment
With tears, like a true penitent,
Until, due expiation made,
And fit atonement fully paid,
The Lord and Bridegroom me present,
Where in sweet strains of high consent,
God’s throne before, the Seraphim
Shall chaunt the ecstatic marriage hymn.’
And thenceforth all my dream was fled.