Lady Clara Vere de Vere

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1. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
2. Of me you shall not win renown:
3. You thought to break a country heart
4. For pastime, ere you went to town.
5. At me you smiled, but unbeguiled
6. I saw the snare, and I retired:
7. The daughter of a hundred Earls,
8. You are not one to be desired.
9.  
10. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
11. I know you proud to bear your name,
12. Your pride is yet no mate for mine,
13. Too proud to care from whence I came.
14. Nor would I break for your sweet sake
15. A heart that doats on truer charms.
16. A simple maiden in her flower
17. Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms.
18.  
19. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
20. Some meeker pupil you must find,
21. For were you queen of all that is,
22. I could not stoop to such a mind.
23. You sought to prove how I could love,
24. And my disdain is my reply.
25. The lion on your old stone gates
26. Is not more cold to you than I.
27.  
28. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
29. You put strange memories in my head.
30. Not thrice your branching limes have blown
31. Since I beheld young Laurence dead.
32. Oh your sweet eyes, your low replies:
33. A great enchantress you may be;
34. But there was that across his throat
35. Which you hardly cared to see.
36.  
37. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
38. When thus he met his mother’s view,
39. She had the passions of her kind,
40. She spake some certain truths of you.
41.  
42. Indeed I heard one bitter word
43. That scarce is fit for you to hear;
44. Her manners had not that repose
45. Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere.
46.  
47. Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
48. There stands a spectre in your hall:
49. The guilt of blood is at your door:
50. You changed a wholesome heart to gall.
51. You held your course without remorse,
52. To make him trust his modest worth,
53. And, last, you fix’d a vacant stare,
54. And slew him with your noble birth.
55.  
56. Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere,
57. From yon blue heavens above us bent
58. The grand old gardener and his wife
59. Smile at the claims of long descent.
60. Howe’er it be, it seems to me,
61. ’Tis only noble to be good.
62. Kind hearts are more than coronets,
63. And simple faith than Norman blood.
64.  
65. I know you, Clara Vere de Vere:
66. You pine among your halls and towers:
67. The languid light of your proud eyes
68. Is wearied of the rolling hours.
69. In glowing health, with boundless wealth,
70. But sickening of a vague disease,
71. You know so ill to deal with time,
72. You needs must play such pranks as these.
73.  
74. Clara, Clara Vere de Vere,
75. If Time be heavy on your hands,
76. Are there no beggars at your gate,
77. Nor any poor about your lands?
78. Oh! teach the orphan-boy to read,
79. Or teach the orphan-girl to sew,
80. Pray Heaven for a human heart,
81. And let the foolish yoeman go.