IX.

I once was quick in feeling—that is o'er;—

My scars are callous, or I should have dashed

My brain against these bars, as the sun flashed210

In mockery through them;—- If I bear and bore

The much I have recounted, and the more

Which hath no words,—'t is that I would not die

And sanction with self-slaughter the dull lie

Which snared me here, and with the brand of shame

Stamp Madness deep into my memory,

And woo Compassion to a blighted name,

Sealing the sentence which my foes proclaim.

No—it shall be immortal!—and I make

A future temple of my present cell,220

Which nations yet shall visit for my sake.[bi]

While thou, Ferrara! when no longer dwell

The ducal chiefs within thee, shall fall down,

And crumbling piecemeal view thy hearthless halls,

A Poet's wreath shall be thine only crown,—

A Poet's dungeon thy most far renown,

While strangers wonder o'er thy unpeopled walls!

And thou, Leonora!—thou—who wert ashamed

That such as I could love—who blushed to hear

To less than monarchs that thou couldst be dear,230

Go! tell thy brother, that my heart, untamed

By grief—years—weariness—and it may be

A taint of that he would impute to me—

From long infection of a den like this,

Where the mind rots congenial with the abyss,—

Adores thee still;—and add—that when the towers

And battlements which guard his joyous hours

Of banquet, dance, and revel, are forgot,

Or left untended in a dull repose,

This—this—shall be a consecrated spot!240

But Thou—when all that Birth and Beauty throws

Of magic round thee is extinct—shalt have

One half the laurel which o'ershades my grave.[188]

No power in death can tear our names apart,

As none in life could rend thee from my heart.[bj]

Yes, Leonora! it shall be our fate

To be entwined[189] for ever—but too late![190]

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