 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
ALTISIDORA.
IN the mid-wood I strayed; and as I went,I saw a lady sitting all alone
Upon a bank with primroses o'ergrown,
With tear-stained eyes and tresses all to-rent.
“Sweetheart,” said I, “is all thy joy forspent
And all the stir of Spring unfelt for thee,
That thou dost linger here so wearily,
Flouting the flowers with sorrow and lament?”
And she, “Is Spring then blossomed on the lands?
Methought the world wore winter with my soul
And these pale flowers, dim-set in weft green bands,
Blew but as wraiths of the bright host that stands
Within the summer-gardens winter stole,
To mock my sorrow with his flowerful hands.”
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |