Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/340

302 I blame thee not, I do thy heart no wrong!

Thy deep seclusion, thine unyielding gloom,

Thine attitude of cold, estranged reproach,

These punctual funeral honors, year by year

Repeated, are in thee, I well believe,

Courageous, faithful actions, nobly dared.

But, Merope, the eyes of other men

Read in these actions, innocent in thee,

Perpetual promptings to rebellious hope,

War-cries to faction, year by year renew'd,

Beacons of vengeance, not to be let die.

And me, believe it, wise men gravely blame,

And ignorant men despise me, that I stand

Passive, permitting thee what course thou wilt.

Yes, the crowd mutters that remorseful fear

And paralyzing conscience stop my arm,

When it should pluck thee from thy hostile way.

All this I bear, for, what I seek, I know:

Peace, peace is what I seek, and public calm;

Endless extinction of unhappy hates,

Union cemented for this nation's weal.

And even now, if to behold me here,

This day, amid these rites, this black-robed train,

Wakens, O Queen! remembrance in thy heart

Too wide at variance with the peace I seek—

I will not violate thy noble grief,

The prayer I came to urge I will defer.

MEROPE.

This day, to-morrow, yesterday, alike

I am, I shall be, have been, in my mind

Tow'rd thee; toward thy silence as thy speech.

Speak, therefore, or keep silence, which thou wilt.