Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AURORA, OR THE MAD TALE MADLY TOLD, by ELIZABETH TREFUSIS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AURORA, OR THE MAD TALE MADLY TOLD, by                    
First Line: Tis night. And this the fearful hour
Last Line: This maniac had been dead a year, a month, and day!
Subject(s): Deception; Grief; Man-woman Relationships; Sorrow; Sadness; Male-female Relations


'Tis night. And this the fearful hour
When yawning graves resign their dead;
Oblivion's god asserts his pow'r,
And slowly rising from his bed,
O'er all extends a magic hand,
And gently waves his leaden wand;
All nature owns the powerful sway,
Man, beast, and bird, the god obey.
The streams scarce murmur as they flow,
The bellowing winds forget to blow,
The light waves gently kiss the shore,
And noise and tumult wake no more.

No sound is heard,
Save when the melancholy bird
Flaps her dull wing, and wheels her heavy flight
Through the dark regions of the shadowy night.—
But who is she, with looks so wild,
Whose white robes catch the moon's pale beam?
Sure she is sorrow's favourite child!
Of peace bereft, of hope beguil'd,
Her dim eyes faintly gleam!
Yet ever and anon they pour forth sorrow's stream.
Poor girl! thine are no common woes!
See how to heaven her arms she throws,
Now to the church-yard bends her way,
And crowns her frantic head with flowers;
Then, on her taper fingers counts the long-resounding hours!
AURORA.
"Full thirteen moons are gone and past,
"And this the place, and this the day
"Of happiness, too great to last!
" 'Twas here Alindor, perjured youth,
"To young Aurora pledged his truth;
"Yet, ere the ceremony ends,
"Truth and Alindor seem no longer friends!
"O my poor brain's on fire!—
"Yes, yes, I laugh'd to see
"This triumph of duplicity!
"Saw you yon mincing dame in proud attire?
"The bold one claim'd his vows!
"Woman, avaunt! thou never wert his spouse.
"But wherefore wax his cheeks so pale?
"Why close those eyes of heavenly blue?
"My life! my love! I scorn the tale;
"Aurora still believes thee true!
"She loves thee, dearest! loving thee—confides:
"Who shall dare say Alindor has two brides?
"Or who shall say that candid smile
"Was but the spurious babe of art?
"Sure heavenly natures know no guile;
"Thine was no false, no canker'd heart.
"O thou art pure, as are the blest above,
"And I were much to blame to doubt thy love!
"But wherefore wax his cheeks so pale?
"Why close those eyes of heavenly blue?
"Conviction hangs upon the tale!
"O all ye gods! yes, yes—'tis true!
"And see, he bends, he sinks to earth!
"Lovely in death!—
"When parching Eurus, with destructive breath,
"Gives the mad whirlwind birth,
"And wide around her leafy honours throws,
"So bends, in beautiful decay, the withering rose!
"Come, let me warm thee with a burning sigh!
" 'Tis for Aurora, not for thee to die!
"For what is she?—a poor deserted maid!
"To love, to grief, to infamy betray'd!
"Unclose those eyes! I can forgive—
"But must not, dare not live!
"Stranger, sit thee down awhile,
"I have a tale to tell shall make thee smile.
"Close in the king-cup hides the generous bee,
"The honey sips, but never harms the flow'r:
"While here, the type of murderous man we see!
"Here the fell spider wantons in his pow'r,
"Forgets the kindly shelter he receives,
"And poisons the poor plant, whose breast that shelter gives!
"My tale is told, my task is done,
"My life is spent, my hour-glass run!
"Behold, on yon swift-sailing cloud
"He rides! triumphant o'er the grave!
"He beckons me, he calls aloud;
"Light on the gale his amber ringlets wave,
"The sweets of paradise perfume his breath!
"See how these two new meteors grace the skies!
"Astrologers suspect not they're his eyes!
"Poor knaves! but little knowing, much they'll own!
"This science was reserved for love alone!
"Love penetrates the caves of death!
"Old Neptune's secret haunts explores,
"Rides on a billow to his distant shores,
"Mounts to the stars, inspects the moon;
"And if the cold, but fickle fair,
"Detains some wandering lover there,
"Love claims him soon!
"Yet still night's queen her influence maintains,
"And though she yields his heart, she gambols in his brains.
"My tale is told, my task is done,
"My life is spent, my hour-glass run.
"Stranger, adieu! I must away,
"My loved Alindor blames Aurora's stay."

Light as the thistle-down she flew
To Neptune's pebbly shore;
The stranger rush'd to save
The lovely maniac from a wat'ry grave;
Round her fair form his sheltering arms he threw.
Horror of horrors! she was seen no more!
He but embraced—a shroud!—
Wild peals of laughter, long and loud,
Convulsed the air!—and church-yard records say
This maniac had been dead a year, a month, and day!





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