Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, JUANA, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

JUANA, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: The night wind shook the tapestry around an ancient palace room
Last Line: But a woman's broken heart was left in its lone despair behind.
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Mourning; Philip I, King Of Spain (1478-1506); Women; Bereavement


THE night wind shook the tapestry around an ancient palace room,
And torches, as it rose and fell, waved through the gorgeous gloom;
And o'er a shadowy regal couch threw fitful gleams and red,
Where a woman with long raven hair sat watching by the dead.

Pale shone the features of the dead, yet glorious still to see,
Like a hunter or a chief struck down while his heart and step were free.
No shroud he wore, no robe of death, but there majestic lay
Proudly and sadly glittering in royalty's array.

But she that with the dark hair watehed by the cold slumberer's side,
On her wan cheek no beauty dwelt, and in her garb no pride;
Only her full impassioned eyes, as o'er that clay she bent,
A wildness and a tenderness in strange resplendence blent.

And as the swift thoughts crossed her soul, like shadows of a cloud,
Amidst the silent room of death, the dreamer spoke aloud;
She spoke to him that could not hear, and cried, "Thou yet wilt wake,
And learn my watchings and my tears, beloved one! for thy sake.

"They told me this was death, but well I knew it could not be;
Fairest and stateliest of the earth! who spoke of death for thee?
They would have wrapped the funeral shroud thy gallant form around,
But I forbade -- and there thou art, a monarch, robed and crowned!

"With all thy bright locks gleaming still, their coronal beneath,
And thy brow so proudly beautiful -- who said that this was death?
Silence hath been upon thy lips, and stillness round thee long,
But the hopeful spirit in my breast is all undimmed and strong.

"I know thou hast not loved me yet; I am not fair like thee,
The very glance of whose clear eye threw round a light of glee!
A frail and drooping form is mine -- a cold unsmiling cheek --
Oh! I have but a woman's heart wherewith thy heart to seek.

"But when thou wakest, my prince, my lord! and hearest how I have kept
A lonely vigil by thy side, and o'er thee prayed and wept --
How in one long deep dream of thee my nights and days have past --
Surely that humble patient love must win back love at last!

"And thou wilt smile -- my own, my own, shall be the sunny smile,
Which brightly fell, and joyously, on all but me erewhile!
No more in vain affection's thirst my weary soul shall pine --
Oh! years of hope deferred were paid by one fond glance of thine!

"Thou'lt meet me with that radiant look when thou comest from the chase --
For me, for me, in festal halls it shall kindle o'er thy face!
Thou'lt reck no more though beauty's gift mine aspect may not bless;
In thy kind eyes, this deep, deep love shall give me loveliness.

"But wake! my heart within me burns, yet once more to rejoice
In the sound to which it ever leaped, the music of thy voice.
Awake! I sit in solitude, that thy first look and tone,
And the gladness of thine opening eyes, may all be mine alone."

In the still chambers of the dust, thus poured forth day by day,
The passion of that loving dream from a troubled soul found way,
Until the shadows of the grave had swept o'er every grace,
Left 'midst the awfulness of death on the princely form and face.

And slowly broke the fearful truth upon the watcher's breast,
And they bore away the royal dead with requiems to his rest,
With banners and with knightly plumes all waving in the wind --
But a woman's broken heart was left in its lone despair behind.





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