The complete poetical works of Thomas Campbell Oxford edition: Edited, with notes by J. Logie Robertson |
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| SONGS, CHIEFLY AMATORY |
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 | The complete poetical works of Thomas Campbell |  |
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SONGS, CHIEFLY AMATORY
CAROLINE
PART I. TO THE SOUTH WIND
I'll bid the hyacinth to blow,
I'll teach my grotto green to be,
And sing my true love all below
The holly bower and myrtle tree.
I'll teach my grotto green to be,
And sing my true love all below
The holly bower and myrtle tree.
There, all his wild-wood sweets to bring,
The sweet South wind shall wander by,
And with the music of his wing
Delight my rustling canopy.
The sweet South wind shall wander by,
And with the music of his wing
Delight my rustling canopy.
Come to my close and clustering bower,
Thou spirit of a milder clime,
Fresh with the dews of fruit and flower,
Of mountain heath and moory thyme.
Thou spirit of a milder clime,
Fresh with the dews of fruit and flower,
Of mountain heath and moory thyme.
With all thy rural echoes come,
Sweet comrade of the rosy day,
Wafting the wild bee's gentle hum,
Or cuckoo's plaintive roundelay.
Sweet comrade of the rosy day,
Wafting the wild bee's gentle hum,
Or cuckoo's plaintive roundelay.
Where'er thy morning breath has played,
Whatever isles of ocean fanned,
Come to my blossom-woven shade,
Thou wandering wind of fairy-land.
Whatever isles of ocean fanned,
Come to my blossom-woven shade,
Thou wandering wind of fairy-land.
For sure from some enchanted isle
Where Heaven and Love their sabbath hold,
Where pure and happy spirits smile,
Of beauty's fairest, brightest mould;
Where Heaven and Love their sabbath hold,
Where pure and happy spirits smile,
Of beauty's fairest, brightest mould;
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From some green Eden of the deep,
Where Pleasure's sigh alone is heaved,
Where tears of rapture lovers weep,
Endeared, undoubting, undeceived;
Where Pleasure's sigh alone is heaved,
Where tears of rapture lovers weep,
Endeared, undoubting, undeceived;
From some sweet paradise afar,
Thy music wanders, distant, lost—
Where Nature lights her leading star
And love is never, never crossed.
Thy music wanders, distant, lost—
Where Nature lights her leading star
And love is never, never crossed.
Oh, gentle gale of Eden bowers,
If back thy rosy feet should roam
To revel with the cloudless Hours
In Nature's more propitious home—
If back thy rosy feet should roam
To revel with the cloudless Hours
In Nature's more propitious home—
Name to thy loved Elysian groves,
That o'er enchanted spirits twine,
A fairer form than cherub loves,
And let the name be Caroline.
That o'er enchanted spirits twine,
A fairer form than cherub loves,
And let the name be Caroline.
PART II. TO THE EVENING STAR
Gem of the crimson-coloured Even,
Companion of retiring day,
Why at the closing gates of Heaven,
Belovèd star, dost thou delay?
Companion of retiring day,
Why at the closing gates of Heaven,
Belovèd star, dost thou delay?
So fair thy pensile beauty burns
When soft the tear of twilight flows;
So due thy plighted love returns
To chambers brighter than the rose;
When soft the tear of twilight flows;
So due thy plighted love returns
To chambers brighter than the rose;
To Peace, to Pleasure, and to Love,
So kind a star thou seem'st to be,
Sure some enamoured orb above
Descends and burns to meet with thee.
So kind a star thou seem'st to be,
Sure some enamoured orb above
Descends and burns to meet with thee.
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Thine is the breathing, blushing hour
When all unheavenly passions fly,
Chased by the soul-subduing power
Of Love's delicious witchery.
When all unheavenly passions fly,
Chased by the soul-subduing power
Of Love's delicious witchery.
Oh! sacred to the fall of day,
Queen of propitious stars, appear,
And early rise and long delay
When Caroline herself is here!
Queen of propitious stars, appear,
And early rise and long delay
When Caroline herself is here!
Shine on her chosen green resort
Whose trees the sunward summit crown,
And wanton flowers that well may court
An angel's feet to tread them down.
Whose trees the sunward summit crown,
And wanton flowers that well may court
An angel's feet to tread them down.
Shine on her sweetly-scented road,
Thou star of evening's purple dome,
That lead'st the nightingale abroad,
And guid'st the weary pilgrim home.
Thou star of evening's purple dome,
That lead'st the nightingale abroad,
And guid'st the weary pilgrim home.
Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath
Embalms the soft exhaling dew,
Where dying winds a sigh bequeath
To kiss the cheek of rosy hue,
Embalms the soft exhaling dew,
Where dying winds a sigh bequeath
To kiss the cheek of rosy hue,
Where, winnowed by the gentle air,
Her silken tresses darkly flow
And fall upon her brow so fair,
Like shadows on the mountain snow.
Her silken tresses darkly flow
And fall upon her brow so fair,
Like shadows on the mountain snow.
Thus, ever thus, at day's decline
In converse sweet, to wander far,
Oh, bring with thee my Caroline,
And thou shalt be my ruling star!
In converse sweet, to wander far,
Oh, bring with thee my Caroline,
And thou shalt be my ruling star!
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ODE TO CONTENT
O cherub Content! at thy moss-covered shrine
I would all the gay hopes of my bosom resign;
I would part with ambition thy votary to be,
And would breathe not a sigh but to friendship and thee.
I would all the gay hopes of my bosom resign;
I would part with ambition thy votary to be,
And would breathe not a sigh but to friendship and thee.
But thy presence appears from my homage to fly
Like the gold-coloured cloud on the verge of the sky;
No dewdrop that hangs on the green willow-tree
Is so short as the smile of thy favour to me.
Like the gold-coloured cloud on the verge of the sky;
No dewdrop that hangs on the green willow-tree
Is so short as the smile of thy favour to me.
In the pulse of my heart I have nourished a care
Which forbids me thy sweet inspiration to share;
The noon of my youth slow departing I see,
But its years, as they roll, bring no tidings of thee.
Which forbids me thy sweet inspiration to share;
The noon of my youth slow departing I see,
But its years, as they roll, bring no tidings of thee.
O cherub Content! at thy moss-covered shrine
I would pay all my vows if Matilda were mine;
If Matilda were mine, whom enraptured I see,
I would breathe not a vow but to friendship and thee!
I would pay all my vows if Matilda were mine;
If Matilda were mine, whom enraptured I see,
I would breathe not a vow but to friendship and thee!
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TO JUDITH
Oh, Judith! had our lot been cast
In that remote and simple time
When, shepherd-swains, thy fathers past
From dreary wilds and deserts vast
To Judah's happy clime,—
In that remote and simple time
When, shepherd-swains, thy fathers past
From dreary wilds and deserts vast
To Judah's happy clime,—
My song upon the mountain rocks
Had echoed of thy rural charms;
And I had fed thy father's flocks,
O Judith of the raven locks!
To win thee to my arms.
Had echoed of thy rural charms;
And I had fed thy father's flocks,
O Judith of the raven locks!
To win thee to my arms.
Our tent beside the murmur calm
Of Jordan's grassy-vested shore
Had sought the shadow of the palm,
And blessed with Gilead's holy balm
Our hospitable door.
Of Jordan's grassy-vested shore
Had sought the shadow of the palm,
And blessed with Gilead's holy balm
Our hospitable door.
But oh, my love! thy father's land
Presents no more a spicy bloom,
Nor fills with fruit the reaper's hand,—
But wide its silent wilds expand,
A desert and a tomb!
Presents no more a spicy bloom,
Nor fills with fruit the reaper's hand,—
But wide its silent wilds expand,
A desert and a tomb!
DRINKING-SONG OF MUNICH
Sweet Iser! were thy sunny realm
And flowery gardens mine,
Thy waters I would shade with elm
To prop the tender vine;
My golden flagons I would fill
With rosy draughts from every hill;
And under every myrtle bower
My gay companions should prolong
The laugh, the revel, and the song,
To many an idle hour.
And flowery gardens mine,
Thy waters I would shade with elm
To prop the tender vine;
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With rosy draughts from every hill;
And under every myrtle bower
My gay companions should prolong
The laugh, the revel, and the song,
To many an idle hour.
Like rivers crimsoned with the beam
Of yonder planet bright
Our balmy cups should ever stream
Profusion of delight;
No care should touch the mellow heart,
And sad or sober none depart;
For wine can triumph over woe,
And Love and Bacchus, brother powers,
Could build in Iser's sunny bowers
A paradise below.
Of yonder planet bright
Our balmy cups should ever stream
Profusion of delight;
No care should touch the mellow heart,
And sad or sober none depart;
For wine can triumph over woe,
And Love and Bacchus, brother powers,
Could build in Iser's sunny bowers
A paradise below.
ABSENCE
'Tis not the loss of love's assurance,
It is not doubting what thou art,
But 'tis the too, too long endurance
Of absence that afflicts my heart.
It is not doubting what thou art,
But 'tis the too, too long endurance
Of absence that afflicts my heart.
The fondest thoughts two hearts can cherish,
When each is lonely doomed to weep,
Are fruits on desert isles that perish,
Or riches buried in the deep.
When each is lonely doomed to weep,
Are fruits on desert isles that perish,
Or riches buried in the deep.
331
What though, untouched by jealous madness,
Our bosom's peace may fall to wreck?
The undoubting heart, that breaks with sadness,
Is but more slowly doomed to break.
Our bosom's peace may fall to wreck?
The undoubting heart, that breaks with sadness,
Is but more slowly doomed to break.
Absence! is not the soul torn by it
From more than light, or life, or breath?
'Tis Lethe's gloom, but not its quiet,—
The pain without the peace of death!
From more than light, or life, or breath?
'Tis Lethe's gloom, but not its quiet,—
The pain without the peace of death!
THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS
ON HER BIRTHDAY
If any white-winged power above
My joys and griefs survey,
The day when thou wert born, my love—
He surely blessed that day.
My joys and griefs survey,
The day when thou wert born, my love—
He surely blessed that day.
I laughed (till taught by thee) when told
Of Beauty's magic powers,
That ripened life's dull ore to gold,
And changed its weeds to flowers.
Of Beauty's magic powers,
That ripened life's dull ore to gold,
And changed its weeds to flowers.
My mind had lovely shapes portrayed;
But thought I earth had one
Could make even Fancy's visions fade
Like stars before the sun?
But thought I earth had one
Could make even Fancy's visions fade
Like stars before the sun?
I gazed, and felt upon my lips
The unfinished accents hang:
One moment's bliss, one burning kiss,
To rapture changed each pang.
The unfinished accents hang:
One moment's bliss, one burning kiss,
To rapture changed each pang.
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And, though as swift as lightning's flash
Those trancèd moments flew,
Not all the waves of time shall wash
Their memory from my view.
Those trancèd moments flew,
Not all the waves of time shall wash
Their memory from my view.
But duly shall my raptured song,
And gladly shall my eyes,
Still bless this day's return as long
As thou shalt see it rise.
And gladly shall my eyes,
Still bless this day's return as long
As thou shalt see it rise.
SONG
[Drink ye to her that each loves best]
Drink ye to her that each loves best,
And, if you nurse a flame
That's told but to her mutual breast,
We will not ask her name.
And, if you nurse a flame
That's told but to her mutual breast,
We will not ask her name.
Enough, while memory tranced and glad
Paints silently the fair,
That each should dream of joys he's had,
Or yet may hope to share.
Paints silently the fair,
That each should dream of joys he's had,
Or yet may hope to share.
Yet far, far hence be jest or boast
From hallowed thoughts so dear;
But drink to her that each loves most
As she would love to hear.
From hallowed thoughts so dear;
But drink to her that each loves most
As she would love to hear.
333
THE MAID'S REMONSTRANCE
Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a love-lorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
In my cheek's pale hue?
All my life with sorrow strewing—
Wed, or cease to woo.
Still a love-lorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
In my cheek's pale hue?
All my life with sorrow strewing—
Wed, or cease to woo.
Rivals banished, bosoms plighted,
Still our days are disunited;
Now the lamp of hope is lighted,
Now half quenched appears,
Damped, and wavering, and benighted,
'Midst my sighs and tears.
Still our days are disunited;
Now the lamp of hope is lighted,
Now half quenched appears,
Damped, and wavering, and benighted,
'Midst my sighs and tears.
Charms you call your dearest blessing,
Lips that thrill at your caressing,
Eyes a mutual soul confessing,—
Soon you'll make them grow
Dim, and worthless your possessing,
Not with age, but woe!
Lips that thrill at your caressing,
Eyes a mutual soul confessing,—
Soon you'll make them grow
Dim, and worthless your possessing,
Not with age, but woe!
SONG TO THE EVENING STAR
Star that bringest home the bee,
And sett'st the weary labourer free!
If any star shed peace, 'tis thou,
That send'st it from above,
Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow
Are sweet as hers we love.
And sett'st the weary labourer free!
If any star shed peace, 'tis thou,
That send'st it from above,
Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow
Are sweet as hers we love.
334
Come to the luxuriant skies
Whilst the landscape's odours rise,
Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard,
And songs, when toil is done,
From cottages whose smoke unstirred
Curls yellow in the sun.
Whilst the landscape's odours rise,
Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard,
And songs, when toil is done,
From cottages whose smoke unstirred
Curls yellow in the sun.
Star of love's soft interviews,
Parted lovers on thee muse;
Their remembrancer in heaven
Of thrilling vows thou art,
Too delicious to be riven
By absence from the heart.
Parted lovers on thee muse;
Their remembrancer in heaven
Of thrilling vows thou art,
Too delicious to be riven
By absence from the heart.
SONG
[Oh, how hard it is to find]
Oh, how hard it is to find
The one just suited to our mind!
And if that one should be
False, unkind, or found too late,
What can we do but sigh at fate,
And sing ‘Woe's me—Woe's me!’
The one just suited to our mind!
And if that one should be
False, unkind, or found too late,
What can we do but sigh at fate,
And sing ‘Woe's me—Woe's me!’
Love's a boundless burning waste,
Where bliss's stream we seldom taste,
And still more seldom flee
Suspense's thorns, suspicion's stings;
Yet somehow love a something brings
That's sweet—even when we sigh ‘Woe's me!’
Where bliss's stream we seldom taste,
And still more seldom flee
Suspense's thorns, suspicion's stings;
Yet somehow love a something brings
That's sweet—even when we sigh ‘Woe's me!’
335
SONG
[All mortal joys I could forsake]
All mortal joys I could forsake,
Bid home and friends adieu,
Of life itself a parting take,
But never of you, my love,
Never of you!
Bid home and friends adieu,
Of life itself a parting take,
But never of you, my love,
Never of you!
For sure of all that know thy worth
This bosom beats most true;
And where could I behold on earth
Another form like you, my love,
Another like you?
This bosom beats most true;
And where could I behold on earth
Another form like you, my love,
Another like you?
SONG
[Withdraw not yet those lips and fingers]
Withdraw not yet those lips and fingers,
Whose touch to mine is rapture's spell;
Life's joy for us a moment lingers,
And death seems in the word—farewell.
The hour that bids us part and go,
It sounds not yet,—oh! no, no, no!
Whose touch to mine is rapture's spell;
Life's joy for us a moment lingers,
And death seems in the word—farewell.
The hour that bids us part and go,
It sounds not yet,—oh! no, no, no!
Time, whilst I gaze upon thy sweetness,
Flies like a courser nigh the goal;
To-morrow where shall be his fleetness,
When thou art parted from my soul?
Our hearts shall beat, our tears shall flow,
But not together,—no, no, no!
Flies like a courser nigh the goal;
To-morrow where shall be his fleetness,
When thou art parted from my soul?
Our hearts shall beat, our tears shall flow,
But not together,—no, no, no!
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LINES TO JULIA M—
SENT WITH A COPY OF THE AUTHOR'S POEMS
Since there is magic in your look,
And in your voice a witching charm,
As all our hearts consenting tell,
Enchantress, smile upon my book,
And guard its lays from hate and harm
By beauty's most resistless spell.
And in your voice a witching charm,
As all our hearts consenting tell,
Enchantress, smile upon my book,
And guard its lays from hate and harm
By beauty's most resistless spell.
The sunny dewdrop of thy praise,
Young day-star of the rising time,
Shall with its odoriferous morn
Refresh my sere and withered bays.
Smile, and I will believe my rime
Shall please the beautiful unborn.
Young day-star of the rising time,
Shall with its odoriferous morn
Refresh my sere and withered bays.
Smile, and I will believe my rime
Shall please the beautiful unborn.
Go forth, my pictured thoughts, and rise
In traits and tints of sweeter tone,
When Julia's glance is o'er ye flung;
Glow, gladden, linger in her eyes,
And catch a magic not your own,
Read by the music of her tongue.
In traits and tints of sweeter tone,
When Julia's glance is o'er ye flung;
Glow, gladden, linger in her eyes,
And catch a magic not your own,
Read by the music of her tongue.
SONG ‘WHEN LOVE CAME FIRST’
When Love came first to Earth, the Spring
Spread rosebeds to receive him;
And back he vowed his flight he'd wing
To Heaven, if she should leave him.
Spread rosebeds to receive him;
And back he vowed his flight he'd wing
To Heaven, if she should leave him.
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But Spring departing saw his faith
Pledged to the next new comer—
He revelled in the warmer breath
And richer bowers of Summer.
Pledged to the next new comer—
He revelled in the warmer breath
And richer bowers of Summer.
Then sportive Autumn claimed by rights
An Archer for her lover:
And even in Winter's dark cold nights
A charm he could discover.
An Archer for her lover:
And even in Winter's dark cold nights
A charm he could discover.
Her routs and balls and fireside joy
For this time were his reasons:
In short, Young Love's a gallant boy
That likes all times and seasons.
For this time were his reasons:
In short, Young Love's a gallant boy
That likes all times and seasons.
FAREWELL TO LOVE
I had a heart that doted once in passion's boundless pain,
And though the tyrant I abjured I could not break his chain;
But now that Fancy's fire is quenched, and ne'er can burn anew,
I've bid to Love for all my life adieu! adieu! adieu!
And though the tyrant I abjured I could not break his chain;
But now that Fancy's fire is quenched, and ne'er can burn anew,
I've bid to Love for all my life adieu! adieu! adieu!
I've known, if ever mortal knew, the spells of Beauty's thrall,
And, if my song has told them not, my soul has felt them all;
But Passion robs my peace no more, and Beauty's witching sway
Is now to me a star that's fallen—a dream that's passed away.
And, if my song has told them not, my soul has felt them all;
But Passion robs my peace no more, and Beauty's witching sway
Is now to me a star that's fallen—a dream that's passed away.
338
Hail! welcome tide of life, when no tumultuous billows roll;
How wondrous to myself appears this halcyon calm of soul!
The wearied bird blown o'er the deep would sooner quit its shore
Than I would cross the gulf again that time has brought me o'er.
How wondrous to myself appears this halcyon calm of soul!
The wearied bird blown o'er the deep would sooner quit its shore
Than I would cross the gulf again that time has brought me o'er.
Why say the Angels feel the flame? O spirits of the skies!
Can love like ours, that dotes on dust, in heavenly bosoms rise?
Ah, no; the hearts that best have felt its power the best can tell
That peace on earth itself begins when Love has bid farewell.
Can love like ours, that dotes on dust, in heavenly bosoms rise?
Ah, no; the hearts that best have felt its power the best can tell
That peace on earth itself begins when Love has bid farewell.
FLORINE
Could I bring back lost youth again
And be what I have been,
I'd court you in a gallant strain,
My young and fair Florine.
And be what I have been,
I'd court you in a gallant strain,
My young and fair Florine.
But mine's the chilling age that chides
Devoted rapture's glow,
And Love—that conquers all besides—
Finds Time a conquering foe.
Devoted rapture's glow,
And Love—that conquers all besides—
Finds Time a conquering foe.
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Farewell! we're severed by our fate
As far as night from noon;
You came into the world too late,
And I depart so soon.
As far as night from noon;
You came into the world too late,
And I depart so soon.
MARGARET AND DORA
Margaret's beauteous. Grecian arts
Ne'er drew form completer;
Yet why, in my heart of hearts,
Hold I Dora's sweeter?
Ne'er drew form completer;
Yet why, in my heart of hearts,
Hold I Dora's sweeter?
Dora's eyes of heavenly blue
Pass all painting's reach;
Ringdoves' notes are discord to
The music of her speech.
Pass all painting's reach;
Ringdoves' notes are discord to
The music of her speech.
Artists! Margaret's smile receive,
And on canvas show it;
But for perfect worship leave
Dora to her poet.
And on canvas show it;
But for perfect worship leave
Dora to her poet.
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TO A YOUNG LADY
WHO ASKED ME TO WRITE SOMETHING ORIGINAL FOR HER ALBUM (1840)
An original something, fair maid, you would win meTo write—but how shall I begin?
For I fear I have nothing original in me—
Excepting Original Sin.
EPIGRAM
TO THE UNITED STATES OF NORTH AMERICA
United States, your banner wears
Two emblems—one of fame;
Alas! the other that it bears
Reminds us of your shame.
Two emblems—one of fame;
Alas! the other that it bears
Reminds us of your shame.
Your banner's constellation types
White freedom with its stars;
But what's the meaning of the stripes?
They mean your negroes' scars.
White freedom with its stars;
But what's the meaning of the stripes?
They mean your negroes' scars.
VERSES ON THE QUEEN
Victoria's sceptre o'er the deep
Has touch'd and broken slavery's chain;
Yet, strange magician! she enslaves
Our hearts within her own domain.
Has touch'd and broken slavery's chain;
Yet, strange magician! she enslaves
Our hearts within her own domain.
Her spirit is devout, and burns
With thoughts adverse to bigotry;
Yet she herself, the idol, turns
Our thoughts into idolatry.
With thoughts adverse to bigotry;
Yet she herself, the idol, turns
Our thoughts into idolatry.
341
SONG IN PRAISE OF MISS ISABELLA JOHNSTON, AFTERWARDS MRS. LAWS OF SPRINGWELL, THE POET'S COUSIN.
I gave my love a chain of gold
Around her neck to bind;
She keeps me in a faster hold,
And captivates my mind.
Around her neck to bind;
She keeps me in a faster hold,
And captivates my mind.
Methinks that mine's the harder part:
Whilst, 'neath her lovely chin,
She carries links outside her heart,
My fetters are within.
Whilst, 'neath her lovely chin,
She carries links outside her heart,
My fetters are within.
SONG
[To Love in my heart, I exclaim'd t'other morning]
To Love in my heart, I exclaim'd t'other morning,
Thou hast dwelt here too long, little lodger, take warning;
Thou shalt tempt me no more from my life's sober duty
To go gadding, bewitch'd by the young eyes of beauty.
For weary's the wooing, ah! weary,
When an old man will have a young dearie!
Thou hast dwelt here too long, little lodger, take warning;
Thou shalt tempt me no more from my life's sober duty
To go gadding, bewitch'd by the young eyes of beauty.
For weary's the wooing, ah! weary,
When an old man will have a young dearie!
The god left my heart at its surly reflections,
But came back on pretext of some sweet recollections,
And he made me forget, what I ought to remember,
That the rosebud of June cannot bloom in November.
Ah! Tom, 'tis all o'er with thy gay days—
Write psalms, and not songs for the ladies.
But came back on pretext of some sweet recollections,
And he made me forget, what I ought to remember,
That the rosebud of June cannot bloom in November.
Ah! Tom, 'tis all o'er with thy gay days—
Write psalms, and not songs for the ladies.
342
But time's been so far from my wisdom enriching
That, the longer I live, beauty seems more bewitching;
And the only new lore my experience traces
Is to find fresh enchantment in magical faces.
How weary is wisdom, how weary,
When one sits by a smiling young dearie!
That, the longer I live, beauty seems more bewitching;
And the only new lore my experience traces
Is to find fresh enchantment in magical faces.
How weary is wisdom, how weary,
When one sits by a smiling young dearie!
And, should she be wroth that my homage pursues her,
I will turn and retort on my lovely accuser—
Who's to blame that my heart by your image is haunted?
It is you, the enchantress—not I, the enchanted.
Would you have me behave more discreetly,
Beauty, look not so killingly sweetly.
I will turn and retort on my lovely accuser—
Who's to blame that my heart by your image is haunted?
It is you, the enchantress—not I, the enchanted.
Would you have me behave more discreetly,
Beauty, look not so killingly sweetly.
SENEX'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS YOUTHFUL IDOL
Platonic friendship, at your years,
Says Conscience, should content ye:
Nay, name not fondness to her ears—
The darling's scarcely twenty.
Says Conscience, should content ye:
Nay, name not fondness to her ears—
The darling's scarcely twenty.
Yes; and she'll loathe me, unforgiven,
To dote thus out of season;
But beauty is a beam from heaven
That dazzles blind our reason.
To dote thus out of season;
But beauty is a beam from heaven
That dazzles blind our reason.
I'll challenge Plato from the skies,
Yes, from his spheres harmonic,
To look in Mary Campbell's eyes
And try to be Platonic.
Yes, from his spheres harmonic,
To look in Mary Campbell's eyes
And try to be Platonic.
343
SONG
[How delicious is the winning]
How delicious is the winning
Of a kiss at Love's beginning,
When two mutual hearts are sighing
For the knot there's no untying!
Of a kiss at Love's beginning,
When two mutual hearts are sighing
For the knot there's no untying!
Yet remember, 'midst your wooing,
Love has bliss, but Love has ruing;
Other smiles may make you fickle,
Tears for other charms may trickle.
Love has bliss, but Love has ruing;
Other smiles may make you fickle,
Tears for other charms may trickle.
Love he comes, and Love he tarries,
Just as fate or fancy carries;
Longest stays when sorest chidden,
Laughs and flies when press'd and bidden.
Just as fate or fancy carries;
Longest stays when sorest chidden,
Laughs and flies when press'd and bidden.
Bind the sea to slumber stilly,
Bind its odour to the lily,
Bind the aspen ne'er to quiver,
Then bind Love to last for ever!
Bind its odour to the lily,
Bind the aspen ne'er to quiver,
Then bind Love to last for ever!
Love's a fire that needs renewal
Of fresh beauty for its fuel:
Love's wing moults when caged and captured,
Only free he soars enraptured.
Of fresh beauty for its fuel:
Love's wing moults when caged and captured,
Only free he soars enraptured.
Can you keep the bee from ranging,
Or the ringdove's neck from changing?
No! nor fettered Love from dying
In the knot there's no untying.
Or the ringdove's neck from changing?
No! nor fettered Love from dying
In the knot there's no untying.
344
THE JILTED NYMPH
A SONG, TO THE SCOTCH TUNE OF ‘WOO'D AND MARRIED AND A'”
I'm jilted, forsaken, outwitted;
Yet think not I'll whimper or brawl—
The lass is alone to be pitied
Who ne'er has been courted at all;
Never by great or small
Wooed or jilted at all;
Oh, how unhappy's the lass
Who has never been courted at all!
Yet think not I'll whimper or brawl—
The lass is alone to be pitied
Who ne'er has been courted at all;
Never by great or small
Wooed or jilted at all;
Oh, how unhappy's the lass
Who has never been courted at all!
My brother called out the dear faithless;
In fits I was ready to fall
Till I found a policeman who, scatheless,
Swore them both to the peace at Guildhall:
Seized them, seconds and all—
Pistols, powder, and ball;
I wished him to die my devoted,
But not in a duel to sprawl.
In fits I was ready to fall
Till I found a policeman who, scatheless,
Swore them both to the peace at Guildhall:
Seized them, seconds and all—
Pistols, powder, and ball;
I wished him to die my devoted,
But not in a duel to sprawl.
What though at my heart he has tilted,
What though I have met with a fall?
Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.
Wooed and jilted and all,
Still I will dance at the ball;
And waltz and quadrille
With light heart and heel
With proper young men and tall.
What though I have met with a fall?
Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.
Wooed and jilted and all,
Still I will dance at the ball;
And waltz and quadrille
With light heart and heel
With proper young men and tall.
345
But lately I've met with a suitor
Whose heart I have gotten in thrall,
And I hope soon to tell you in future
That I'm wooed and married and all.
Wooed and married and all,
What greater bliss can befall?
And you all shall partake
Of my bridal cake,
When I'm wooed and married, and all.
Whose heart I have gotten in thrall,
And I hope soon to tell you in future
That I'm wooed and married and all.
Wooed and married and all,
What greater bliss can befall?
And you all shall partake
Of my bridal cake,
When I'm wooed and married, and all.
JEMIMA, ROSE, AND ELEANORE
THREE CELEBRATED SCOTTISH BEAUTIES
Adieu! Romance's heroines—
Give me the nymphs who this good hour
May charm me, not in Fiction's scenes,
But teach me Beauty's living power.
My harp that has been mute too long
Shall sleep at Beauty's name no more
So but your smiles reward my song,
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore,—
Give me the nymphs who this good hour
May charm me, not in Fiction's scenes,
But teach me Beauty's living power.
My harp that has been mute too long
Shall sleep at Beauty's name no more
So but your smiles reward my song,
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore,—
In whose benignant eyes are beaming
The rays of purity and truth,
Such as we fancy woman's seeming
In creation's golden youth.
The more I look upon thy grace,
Rosina, I could look the more;
But for Jemima's witching face,
And the sweet smile of Eleanore.
The rays of purity and truth,
Such as we fancy woman's seeming
In creation's golden youth.
The more I look upon thy grace,
Rosina, I could look the more;
But for Jemima's witching face,
And the sweet smile of Eleanore.
346
Had I been Lawrence, kings had wanted
Their portraits till I painted yours;
And these had future hearts enchanted
When this poor verse no more endures.
I would have left the Congress faces,
A dull-eyed diplomatic corps,
Till I had grouped you as the Graces—
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore.
Their portraits till I painted yours;
And these had future hearts enchanted
When this poor verse no more endures.
I would have left the Congress faces,
A dull-eyed diplomatic corps,
Till I had grouped you as the Graces—
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore.
The Catholic bids fair saints befriend him:
Your poet's heart is Catholic too—
His rosary shall be flowers ye send him,
His saints' days when he visits you.
And my sere laurels for my duty
Miraculous at your touch would rise,
Could I give verse one trait of beauty
Like that which glads me from your eyes.
Your poet's heart is Catholic too—
His rosary shall be flowers ye send him,
His saints' days when he visits you.
And my sere laurels for my duty
Miraculous at your touch would rise,
Could I give verse one trait of beauty
Like that which glads me from your eyes.
Unsealed by you these lips have spoken,
Disused to song for many a day;
Ye've tuned a harp whose strings were broken,
And warmed a heart of callous clay;
So, when my fancy next refuses
To twine for you a garland more,
Come back again and be my Muses—
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore.
Disused to song for many a day;
Ye've tuned a harp whose strings were broken,
And warmed a heart of callous clay;
So, when my fancy next refuses
To twine for you a garland more,
Come back again and be my Muses—
Jemima, Rose, and Eleanore.
| The complete poetical works of Thomas Campbell | |