IN Gallia’s kingdom, near a forest wild,
There liv’d a peasant, and his only child;
A female, to whom Nature, most unkind,
Had given a form uncouth, tho’ active mind;
Deform’d her body, fiery red her hair,
Distorted eyeballs, with a frightful stare:
Yet cheerful was she, to her father kind,
No envy touch’d her heart, no grief her mind;
But gaily singing, did she often stray,
Thro’ the wide forest’s variegated way:
She pac’d its inmost mazes o’er and o’er,
For well could she its winding paths explore.
It chanc’d, as wand’ring thro’ the ‘tangled shade,
Which interwoven boughs impervious made;
Sudden she saw a youth of beauteous mein,
Attended by a numerous hunting train.
Their sports concluded, slowly they retire,
Whilst Rosetta doth the graceful youth admire:
With eager gaze she watches his retreat,
And listens to his sinking accents sweet–
Traces the steps which he had trac’d before,
And in her mind counts all his beauties o’er.
From that sad hour no comfort warm’d her breast,
From that sad hour she knew no balmy rest.
Listless and lonely in the wood she strays,
And now for wealth, and now for beauty prays;
Now marks the way she saw the youth retreat,
And fancies still she hears his horse’s feet:
Once lost in thought, and sank in deepest woe,
Heedless the length her wand’ring feet did go;
Till, faint and weary, she surpris’d did find,
How far her father’s cottage was behind.
But as she turn’d to reach it, e’er ’twas night,
A man, gigantic, met her wond’ring sight;
Black were his garments, and his eyes were bold,
And round his neck he wore a ring of gold;
His step was solemn, and his mein severe,
And every gesture fill’d her soul with fear:
From his dread presence she unconscious flew,
Till his mild words her fix’d attention drew.
Rosett, he cried, in me behold a friend,
Who to your good will every effort bend;
For well I know your bosom’s inward woe,
Full well the cause which makes your tears to flow;
Say at what price the blessing you would buy,
To be most lovely in your favorite’s eye?
Tho’ now deform’d, let not Rosett despair,
She shall be fairest ‘midst a thousand fair;
The youth you love shall then admire each grace,
And be enchanted by your lovely face:
Yours he shall be; but when complete the whole,
What will you give? entranc’d, she cried, my soul.
Enough, he said, e’en now the change is made,
Be thy fair form in yonder stream survey’d;
View thy bright eyes, thy skin more white than snow,
Thy cheeks, in which the new-born roses blow;
The flowing ringlets of thy golden hair,
And shape surpassing every earthly fair;
Speak my reward when you survey the whole;
Again she clasp’d her hands, and cried, my soul.
And now advancing to the limpid brook,
With eager haste she cast an anxious look;
Joy flush’d her cheek, and sparkled in her eye,
As she her numerous graces did espy.
True had her friend defin’d the amazing change,
Her beauty wond’rous, as its manner strange;
But e’er she’d satisfied her eager eye,
She hears the sound of hounds and hunters nigh:
Unusual transports play about her heart,
One moment thinks she’ll stay, the next depart.
But e’er resolve determines flight or stay,
A numerous band obstruct the narrow way;
And now the object of her hopes, her fears,
Foremost amongst the lengthen’d train appears.
Involuntary, she to shun them tried,
But sunk near fainting by his horse’s side;
Sudden as light’ning did the youth descend,
The readiest aid her drooping form to lend:
But oh! what beauties met his ardent gaze;
He clasp’d her to his heart in fond amaze;
And as he strain’d her to his beating breast,
In these soft accents he the fair addrest:
Oh! speak fair creature, what can be the cause,
Which to this dreary wood thy footstep draws?
Say, art thou Goddess of the Silvan chace?
For ne’er could mortal boast so fair a face.
Oh, speak! thy accents sure must be divine,
And let my ears be bless’d by sounds like thine.
With timid look she modestly replied,
My father lives close to this forest’s side,
A lowly peasant he, unknown to fame,
His only child am I, Rosett my name.
Oh! said the youth, had’st been my happy lot,
To live with Rosett, in her humble cot:
To claim her love amidst this rustic scene,
And call her mine, how happy had I been:
But Fate for me a different care hath shewn;
Behold the monarch of the Gallic throne,
Of which a royal partner long hath been
My wedded consort, and of France the queen.
But will Rosett accept my faithful heart?
Accept my love, for never must we part.
Be thou the solace of each happy hour,
Be sharer of my joys, my wealth, my power.
Oh! give consent to live in silken bands,
See, ’tis a lover sues–no king commands.
Mute was her tongue, tho’ well her eyes exprest
The thrilling raptures which now fir’d her breast;
Mute was her tongue, for ill it had explain’d,
The various transports which her heart contain’d.
A suppliant king! her vainest hope exceeds,
And every rising passion for him pleads,
Blushing, she gave her hand, and faintly said,
By me my prince must ever be obey’d.
And now behold her in a splendid court,
Of every luxury, the gay resort;
Her blooming charms surpassing all that’s there,
She being fairest ‘midst a thousand fair:
Pleasure, and love, and joy, are in her train,
Who banish all the family of pain.
Years roll on years, and yet doth time forbear
To touch the ringlets of her flowing hair–
To fade her roses, in unvarying bloom,
Or rob her ruby mouth of its perfume.
A concert now she gives her numerous friends,
For at her summons all the court attends;
With magic art she touch’d the trembling strings,
And to the mind, a saint Cecilia brings.
Equal to Philomel’s her syren tongue,
On every ear a fix’d attention hung;
When, lo! a servant enters, in affright,
As though a spectre struck his aching sight;
Fault’ring, he tried to speak, fear tied his tongue,
Rosetta on the half-form’d accents hung;
A sympathetic fear her breast alarms,
And ashy paleness creeps o’er all her charms.
Oh speak! she cried, why thus alarm’d declare;
Why fix on me your eyes with frightful glare?
At length he said, a man of monstrous size,
His robes are black, terrific are his eyes;
Severe his aspect, and his mein is bold,
And round his neck he wears a ring of gold,
Demands to see you at your castle gate;
He says you know him, and he will not wait.
Oh, go! she trembling said, oh! go, and say,
I cannot, must not, see him on this day;
But beg, that on to-morrow he will come,
I then will see him, and must know my doom.
Scarce had the servant o’er the threshold past,
Then these fierce words her every hope did blast;
Deny’d to me! denials are in vain;
The hour is come, in which we meet again.
Thus saying, he the door wide open throws,
And the dread demon up to Rosett goes;
As he advances thro’ the gilded hall,
A chilling fear does every heart appal:
But who can paint Rosett; convulsions dire
Seiz’d her frail frame, in which she doth expire.
Now said the demon, now completes the whole,
Be yours the dross–be mine the precious soul:
Struck dumb, all gaze on him in wild affright,
Whilst with loud laughs he vanish’d from their sight.
Now round the body of Rosett they press;
But who their horror, their amaze, can guess,
When there an old and wrinkled hag they found?
With homeliest garments was her body bound:
A monstrous hump upon her back appears,
And every feature bears the stamp of years.
Shock’d and confounded, they to earth consign’d
All of Rosetta they could ever find:
To earth consign’d, without e’er name or date,
Tho’ still remember’d well, is Rosett’s fate.
(Caroline Maxwell)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, Night Poems, Mind Poems, Soul Poems, Nature Poems, Faces Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Youth Poems, Fairness Poems, Sense & Perception PoemsBased on Keywords: obstruct, addrest, silvan, trac, convulsions, completes, determines, surpris, cecilia, pac, sharer