From the First Part of “Wallenstein,” Act III. Sc. 4. WALLENSTEIN (in soliloquy). Is it possible? Is ’t so? I can no longer what I would! No longer draw back at my liking! I Must do the deed, because I thought of it, And fed this heart here with a dream! Because I did not scowl temptation from my presence, Dallied with thought of possible fulfilment, Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, And only kept the road, the access open! By the great God of Heaven! It was not My serious meaning, it was ne’er resolve. I but amused myself with thinking of it. The free-will tempted me, the power to do Or not to do it.—Was it criminal To make the fancy minister to hope, To fill the air with pretty toys of air, And clutch fantastic sceptres moving t’ward me? Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not The road of duty clear beside me—but One little step and once more I was in it! Where am I? Whither have I been transported? No road, no track behind one, but a wall, Impenetrable, insurmountable, Rises obedient to the spells I muttered And meant not—my own doings tower behind me.
Dallying with Temptation
More from Poet
-
Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks; strong foot! yet ill able Ever to come up with dactyl trisyllable. Iambics march from short to long;— With a leap and a bound the swift Anapæsts throng; One syllable long, with one short at each side,...
-
Cologne IN Köln, a town of monks and bones, And pavements fanged with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches,— I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well-defined and several stinks! Ye nymphs that reign o’er sewers and sinks, The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your...
-
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course? So long he seems to pause On thy bald, awful head, O sovran Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form, Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently! Around thee and above, Deep is...
-
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O’Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be?— By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch-tree! The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, And whistled and roared in...
-
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 1 A stately pleasure-dome decree Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens, bright with sinuous rills, Where...