Bulchevy's Book of English Verse - BestLightNovel.com
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There breathe but o'er my arch of gra.s.s A not too sadly sigh'd 'Alas!'
And I shall catch, ere you can pa.s.s, That winged word.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
561. Verse
PAST ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades; Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse that gives Immortal youth to mortal maids.
Soon shall Oblivion's deepening veil Hide all the peopled hills you see, The gay, the proud, while lovers hail These many summers you and me.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
562. Proud Word you never spoke
PROUD word you never spoke, but you will speak Four not exempt from pride some future day.
Resting on one white hand a warm wet cheek, Over my open volume you will say, 'This man loved me'--then rise and trip away.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
563. Resignation
WHY, why repine, my pensive friend, At pleasures slipp'd away?
Some the stern Fates will never lend, And all refuse to stay.
I see the rainbow in the sky, The dew upon the gra.s.s; I see them, and I ask not why They glimmer or they pa.s.s.
With folded arms I linger not To call them back; 'twere vain: In this, or in some other spot, I know they'll s.h.i.+ne again.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
564. Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel
MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: O, if you felt the pain I feel!
But O, who ever felt as I?
No longer could I doubt him true-- All other men may use deceit; He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
565. Autumn
MILD is the parting year, and sweet The odour of the falling spray; Life pa.s.ses on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day.
I wait its close, I court its gloom, But mourn that never must there fall Or on my breast or on my tomb The tear that would have soothed it all.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
566. Remain!
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone!
--Tho' youth, where you are, long will stay-- But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste away.
'Can I be always by your side?'
No; but the hours you can, you must, Nor rise at Death's approaching stride, Nor go when dust is gone to dust.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
567. Absence
HERE, ever since you went abroad, If there be change no change I see: I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walk'd by me.
Yes; I forgot; a change there is-- Was it of that you bade me tell?
I catch at times, at times I miss The sight, the tone, I know so well.
Only two months since you stood here?
Two shortest months? Then tell me why Voices are harsher than they were, And tears are longer ere they dry.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
568. Of Clementina
IN Clementina's artless mien Lucilla asks me what I see, And are the roses of sixteen Enough for me?
Lucilla asks, if that be all, Have I not cull'd as sweet before: Ah yes, Lucilla! and their fall I still deplore.
I now behold another scene, Where Pleasure beams with Heaven's own light, More pure, more constant, more serene, And not less bright.
Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose, Whose chain of flowers no force can sever, And Modesty who, when she goes, Is gone for ever.
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
569. Ianthe's Question
'DO you remember me? or are you proud?'
Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimm'd crowd, Ianthe said, and look'd into my eyes.
'A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.'
Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864
570. On Catullus