The Bride of Messina and On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy

Forth from my silent chamber's deep recesses,

ÊÊGray Fathers of the State, unwillingly

ÊÊI come; and, shrinking from your gaze, uplift

ÊÊThe veil that shades my widowed brows: the light

ÊÊAnd glory of my days is fled forever!

ÊÊAnd best in solitude and kindred gloom

ÊÊTo hide these sable weeds, this grief-worn frame,

ÊÊBeseems the mourner's heart. A mighty voice

ÊÊInexorableÑduty's stern command,

ÊÊCalls me to light again.

ÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊÊNot twice the moon

ÊÊHas filled her orb since to the tomb ye bore

ÊÊMy princely spouse, your city's lord, whose arm

ÊÊAgainst a world of envious foes around

ÊÊHurled fierce defiance! Still his spirit lives

ÊÊIn his heroic sons, their country's pride:

ÊÊYe marked how sweetly from their childhood's bloom

ÊÊThey grew in joyous promise to the years

ÊÊOf manhood's strength; yet in their secret hearts,

ÊÊFrom some mysterious root accursed, upsprung

ÊÊUnmitigable, deadly hate, that spurned

ÊÊAll kindred ties, all youthful, fond affections,

ÊÊStill ripening with their thoughtful age; not mine

ÊÊThe sweet accord of family bliss; though each

ÊÊAwoke a mother's rapture; each alike

ÊÊSmiled at my nourishing breast! for me alone

ÊÊYet lives one mutual thought, of children's love;

ÊÊIn these tempestuous souls discovered else

ÊÊBy mortal strife and thirst of fierce revenge.

ÊÊWhile yet their father reigned, his stern control

ÊÊTamed their hot spirits, and with iron yoke

ÊÊTo awful justice bowed their stubborn will:

ÊÊObedient to his voice, to outward seeming

ÊÊThey calmed their wrathful mood, nor in array

ÊÊEre met, of hostile arms; yet unappeased

ÊÊSat brooding malice in their bosoms' depths;

ÊÊThey little reek of hidden springs whose power

ÊÊCan quell the torrent's fury: scarce their sire

ÊÊIn death had closed his eyes, when, as the spark

ÊÊThat long in smouldering embers sullen lay,

ÊÊShoots forth a towering flame; so unconfined

ÊÊBurst the wild storm of brothers' hate triumphant

ÊÊO'er nature's holiest bands. Ye saw, my friends,

ÊÊYour country's bleeding wounds, when princely strife

ÊÊWoke discord's maddening fires, and ranged her sons

ÊÊIn mutual deadly conflict; all around

ÊÊWas heard the clash of arms, the din of carnage,

ÊÊAnd e'en these halls were stained with kindred gore.

ÊÊTorn was the state with civil rage, this heart

ÊÊWith pangs that mothers feel; alas, unmindful

ÊÊOf aught but public woes, and pitiless

ÊÊYou sought my widow's chamberÑthere with taunts

ÊÊAnd fierce reproaches for your country's ills

ÊÊFrom that polluted spring of brother's hate

ÊÊDerived, invoked a parent's warning voice,

ÊÊAnd threatening told of people's discontent

ÊÊAnd princes' crimes! "Ill-fated land! now wasted

ÊÊBy thy unnatural sons, ere long the prey

ÊÊOf foeman's sword! Oh, haste," you cried, "and end

ÊÊThis strife! bring peace again, or soon Messina

ÊÊShall bow to other lords." Your stern decree

ÊÊPrevailed; this heart, with all a mother's anguish

ÊÊO'erlabored, owned the weight of public cares.

ÊÊI flew, and at my children's feet, distracted,

ÊÊA suppliant lay; till to my prayers and tears

ÊÊThe voice of nature answered in their breasts!