She sits, a Statue of Despair,
In that far land, by that bright sea;
She sits, a Statue of Despair,
Whose smile an Angel seem'd to be —
An angel that could never die,
Its home the heaven of that blue eye!
The smile is gone for ever there —
She sits, the Statue of Despair!
She knows it all — the hideous tale —
The wrong, the perjury, and the shame;—
Before the bride had left her vale,
Another bore the nuptial name;
Another lives to claim the hand
Whose clasp, in thrilling, had defiled:
Another lives, O God, to brand
The Bastard's curse upon her child!
ANOTHER!— through all space she saw
The face that mock'd th’ unwedded mother's!
In every voice she heard the Law,
That cried, “Thou hast usurp'd another's!”
And who the horror first had told?—
From his false lips in scorn it came —
“Thy charms grow dim, my love grows cold;
My sails are spread — Farewell.”
Rigid in voiceless marble there —
Come, sculptor, come — behold Despair!
The infant woke from feverish rest —
Its smiles she sees, its voice she hears —
The marble melted from the breast,
And all the Mother gush'd in tears.