 | Verses by W. H. Mallock |  |
53
A NEW FRANCESCA
(MRS. SINCLAIR'S SONG IN THE ‘NEW REPUBLIC)
‘Passion-pale they met
And parted.’
Lord Tennyson's Gumevere.
And parted.’
Lord Tennyson's Gumevere.
Darling, can you endure the liquid weather,
The jasmine-scented twilights, oh my dear?
Or do you still remember how together
We read the sad sweet Idyl ‘Guinevere,’
Love, in one last year's twilight?
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
The jasmine-scented twilights, oh my dear?
Or do you still remember how together
We read the sad sweet Idyl ‘Guinevere,’
Love, in one last year's twilight?
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
Ah, the flowers smelt sweet, and all unheeding
Did I read to you that tender tale,
Oh, my love, until my voice, in reading
How those lovers greeted ‘passion-pale,’
Trembled in the soft twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
Did I read to you that tender tale,
Oh, my love, until my voice, in reading
How those lovers greeted ‘passion-pale,’
Trembled in the soft twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
54
Then our eyes met, and then all was over—
All the world receded cold and far;
And your lips were on my lips, my lover;
And above us shook a silver star,
Through depths of melting twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
All the world receded cold and far;
And your lips were on my lips, my lover;
And above us shook a silver star,
Through depths of melting twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
Darling, no July will ever find us
On this earth, together, more. Our fates
Were but a moment cheated. Then, behind us
Shrilled his voice for whom Caïna waits,
Shattering our one sweet twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
On this earth, together, more. Our fates
Were but a moment cheated. Then, behind us
Shrilled his voice for whom Caïna waits,
Shattering our one sweet twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
I shall know no more of summer weather,
Nought will be for me of glad or fair,
Till I join my darling, and together
We go for ever on the accursed air,
There in the dawnless twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
Nought will be for me of glad or fair,
Till I join my darling, and together
We go for ever on the accursed air,
There in the dawnless twilight.
Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.
| Verses by W. H. Mallock | |