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Sienna
I LOVE thee, love thee, Giulio! | |
| Some call me cold, and some demure, | |
| And if thou hast ever guessed that so | |
| I love thee … well;—the proof was poor, | |
| And no one could be sure. | 5 |
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| Before thy song (with shifted rhymes | |
| To suit my name) did I undo | |
| The persian? If it moved sometimes, | |
| Thou hast not seen a hand push through | |
| A flower or two. | 10 |
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| My mother listening to my sleep | |
| Heard nothing but a sigh at night,— | |
| The short sigh rippling on the deep,— | |
| When hearts run out of breath and sigh | |
| Of men, to God’s clear light. | 15 |
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| When others named thee,… thought thy brows | |
| Were straight, thy smile was tender,… “Here | |
| He comes between the vineyard-rows!”— | |
| I said not “Ay,”—nor waited, Dear, | |
| To feel thee step too near. | 20 |
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| I left such things to bolder girls, | |
| Olivia or Clotilda. Nay, | |
| When that Clotilda through her curls | |
| Held both thine eyes in hers one day, | |
| I marvelled, let me say. | 25 |
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| I could not try the woman’s trick: | |
| Between us straightway fell the blush | |
| Which kept me separate, blind, and sick. | |
| A wind came with thee in a flush, | |
| As blow through Horeb’s bush. | 30 |
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| But now that Italy invokes | |
| Her young men to go forth and chase | |
| The foe or perish,—nothing chokes | |
| My voice, or drives me from the place: | |
| I look thee in the face. | 35 |
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| I love thee! it is understood, | |
| Confest: I do not shrink or start: | |
| No blushes: all my body’s blood | |
| Has gone to greaten this poor heart, | |
| That, loving, we may part. | 40 |
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| Our Italy invokes the youth | |
| To die if need be. Still there ’s room, | |
| Though earth is strained with dead, in truth. | |
| Since twice the lilies were in bloom | |
| They had not grudged a tomb. | 45 |
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| And many a plighted maid and wife | |
| And mother, who can say since then | |
| “My country,” cannot say through life | |
| “My son,” “my spouse,” “my flower of men,” | |
| And not weep dumb again. | 50 |
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| Heroic males the country bears, | |
| But daughters give up more than sons. | |
| Flags wave, drums beat, and unawares | |
| You flash your souls out with the guns, | |
| And take your heaven at once! | 55 |
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| But we,—we empty heart and home | |
| Of life’s life, love! we bear to think | |
| You ’re gone,… to feel you may not come,… | |
| To hear the door-latch stir and clink | |
| Yet no more you,… nor sink. | 60 |
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| Dear God! when Italy is one | |
| And perfected from bound to bound,… | |
| Suppose (for my share) earth ’s undone | |
| By one grave in ’t! as one small wound | |
| May kill a man, ’t is found! | 65 |
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| What then? If love’s delight must end, | |
| At least we ’ll clear its truth from flaws. | |
| I love thee, love thee, sweetest friend! | |
| Now take my sweetest without pause, | |
| To help the nation’s cause. | 70 |
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| And thus of noble Italy | |
| We ’ll both be worthy. Let her show | |
| The future how we made her free, | |
| Not sparing life, nor Giulio, | |
| Nor this … this heart-break. Go! | 75 |
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