The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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WRITTEN IN MY LADY'S DANTE. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
WRITTEN IN MY LADY'S DANTE.
What binds me to the page? my lonely cell
Is dim and cold: 'tis midnight's weary time—
Why am I doomed, as if by some deep spell,
With the lone bard his spectral hill to climb?
Is dim and cold: 'tis midnight's weary time—
Why am I doomed, as if by some deep spell,
With the lone bard his spectral hill to climb?
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The music of her voice hath breathed these words;
Her eye hath shone this storied page along;
Tones have been here soft as the summer birds,
When echoes of the eve were deep with song!
Her eye hath shone this storied page along;
Tones have been here soft as the summer birds,
When echoes of the eve were deep with song!
Thenceforth a charm was on the Italian lay;
The Florentine was blended with thy name;
His dreams have thronged my slumbers, but for aye
Thy shining brow amid those visions came.
The Florentine was blended with thy name;
His dreams have thronged my slumbers, but for aye
Thy shining brow amid those visions came.
'Twere a proud task, from that rich voice to learn
These antique legends of the dreamy South;
Ah! no! too oft my wayward lips would turn
To mar the music of that thrilling mouth!
These antique legends of the dreamy South;
Ah! no! too oft my wayward lips would turn
To mar the music of that thrilling mouth!
1864.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |