XVII<\/p>\n
In him inexplicably mix’d appear’d
\nMuch to be lov’d and hated, sought and fear’d.
\nOpinion varying o’er his hidden lot,
\nIn praise or railing ne’er his name forgot;
\nHis silence form’d a theme for others’ prate;
\nThey guess’d–they gaz’d–they fain would know his fate.
\nWhat had he been? what was he, thus unknown,
\nWho walk’d their world, his lineage only known?
\nA hater of his kind? yet some would say,
\nWith them he could seem gay amidst the gay;
\nBut own’d that smile, if oft observ’d and near,
\nWan’d in its mirth and wither’d to a sneer;
\nThat smile might reach his lip but pass’d not by,
\nNone e’er could trace its laughter to his eye.
\nYet there was softness too in his regard,
\nAt times, a heart as not by nature hard,
\nBut once perceiv’d, his spirit seem’d to chide
\nSuch weakness as unworthy of its pride,
\nAnd steel’d itself, as scorning to redeem
\nOne doubt from others’ half withheld esteem;
\nIn self-inflicted penance of a breast
\nWhich tenderness might once have wrung from rest;
\nIn vigilance of grief that would compel
\nThe soul to hate for having lov’d too well.<\/p>\n
XVIII<\/p>\n
There was in him a vital sign of all:
\nAs if the worst had fall’n which could befall,
\nHe stood a stranger in this breathing world,
\nAn erring spirit from another hurl’d;
\nA thing of dark imaginings, that shap’d
\nBy choice the perils he by chance escap’d;
\nBut ‘scap’d in vain, for in their memory yet
\nHis mind would half exult and half regret.
\nWith more capacity for love than earth
\nBestows on most of mortal mould and birth,
\nHis early dreams of good outstripp’d the truth,
\nAnd troubled manhood follow’d baffled youth;
\nWith thought of years in phantom chase misspent,
\nAnd wasted powers for better purpose lent;
\nAnd fiery passions that had pour’d their wrath
\nIn hurried desolation o’er his path,
\nAnd left the better feelings all at strife
\nIn wild reflection o’er his stormy life;
\nBut haughty still and loth himself to blame,
\nHe call’d on Nature’s self to share the shame,
\nAnd charg’d all faults upon the fleshly form
\nShe gave to clog the soul and feast the worm;
\nTill he at last confounded good and ill,
\nAnd half mistook for fate the acts of will.
\nToo high for common selfishness, he could
\nAt times resign his own for others’ good,
\nBut not in pity, not because he ought,
\nBut in some strange perversity of thought,
\nThat sway’d him onward with a secret pride
\nTo do what few or none would do beside;
\nAnd this same impulse would, in tempting time,
\nMislead his spirit equally in crime;
\nSo much he soar’d beyond, or sunk beneath,
\nThe men with whom he felt condemn’d to breathe,
\nAnd long’d by good or ill to separate
\nHimself from all who shared his mortal state.
\nHis mind abhorring this had fix’d her throne
\nFar from the world, in regions of her own:
\nThus coldly passing all that pass’d below,
\nHis blood in temperate seeming now would flow:
\nAh! happier if it ne’er with guilt had glow’d,
\nBut ever in that icy smoothness flow’d!
\n‘T is true, with other men their path he walk’d,
\nAnd like the rest in seeming did and talk’d,
\nNor outrag’d Reason’s rules by flaw nor start,
\nHis madness was not of the head, but heart;
\nAnd rarely wander’d in his speech, or drew
\nHis thoughts so forth as to offend the view.<\/p>\n
XIX<\/p>\n
With all that chilling mystery of mien,
\nAnd seeming gladness to remain unseen,
\nHe had (if ‘t were not nature’s boon) an art
\nOf fixing memory on another’s heart.
\nIt was not love perchance, nor hate, nor aught
\nThat words can image to express the thought;
\nBut they who saw him did not see in vain,
\nAnd once beheld, would ask of him again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
LARA: CANTO THE FIRST (EXCERPT), published 1814 XVII In him inexplicably mix’d appear’d Much to be lov’d and hated, sought and fear’d. Opinion varying o’er his hidden lot, In praise or railing ne’er his name forgot; His silence form’d a theme for others’ prate; They guess’d–they gaz’d–they fain would know his fate. What had he […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/263"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=263"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/263\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=263"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=263"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/englishhistory.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=263"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}