He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp
He took her hand; a moment o'er his face
A tablet of unutterable thoughts
Was traced, and then it faded as it came;
He dropp'd the hand he held, and with slow steps
Return'd, but not as bidding her adieu,
For they did part with mutual smiles:--he pass'd
From out the massy gate of that old Hall,
And mounting on his steed he went his way,
And ne'er repassed that hoary threshold more."
In one of his journals, Lord Byron describes his feelings after thus
leaving the oratory. Arriving on the summit of a hill, which commanded
the last view of Annesley, he checked his horse, and gazed back with
mingled pain and fondness upon the groves which embowered the Hall, and
thought upon the lovely being that dwelt there, until his feelings were
quite dissolved in tenderness. The conviction at length recurred that
she never could be his, when, rousing himself from his reverie, he
struck his spurs into his steed and dashed forward, as if by rapid
motion to leave reflection behind him.
Yet, notwithstanding what he asserts in the verses last quoted, he did
pass the "hoary threshold" of Annesley again. It was, however, after
the lapse of several years, during which he had grown up to manhood,
and had passed through the ordeal of pleasures and tumultuous passions,
and had felt the influence of other charms.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168