Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams By Walter Savage Landor: Edited with notes by Charles G. Crump |
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 | Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams |  |
Old Men.
Maidens.
[They prostrate themselves.
L. Malaspina.
How faintly sound those voices! altho' many;
At every stave they cease, and rest upon
That slender reed which only one can blow.
But she has heard them! Me too she has heard.
Heaviness, sleep comes over me, deep sleep:
Can it, so imperturbable, be death?
And do I for the last time place thy lip
Where it may yet draw life from me, my child!
Thou, who alone canst save him, thou wilt save.
[She dies: the child on her bosom still sleeping.
The village of the laurel grove
Hath seen thee hovering high above,
Whether pure innocence was there,
Or helpless grief, or ardent prayer.
O Virgin! hither turn thy view,
For these are in Ancona too.
Not for ourselves implore we aid,
But thou art mother, thou art maid;
Behold these suppliants, and secure
Their humbled heads from touch impure!
Hath seen thee hovering high above,
Whether pure innocence was there,
Or helpless grief, or ardent prayer.
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For these are in Ancona too.
Not for ourselves implore we aid,
But thou art mother, thou art maid;
Behold these suppliants, and secure
Their humbled heads from touch impure!
Maidens.
Hear, maid and mother! hear our prayer!
Be brave and aged men thy care!
And, if they bleed, O may it be
In honour of thy Son and thee!
When innocence is wrong'd, we know
Thy bosom ever felt the blow.
Yes, pure One! there are tears above,
But tears of pity, tears of love,
And only from thine eyes they fall,
Those eyes that watch and weep for all.
Be brave and aged men thy care!
And, if they bleed, O may it be
In honour of thy Son and thee!
When innocence is wrong'd, we know
Thy bosom ever felt the blow.
Yes, pure One! there are tears above,
But tears of pity, tears of love,
And only from thine eyes they fall,
Those eyes that watch and weep for all.
[They prostrate themselves.
L. Malaspina.
How faintly sound those voices! altho' many;
At every stave they cease, and rest upon
That slender reed which only one can blow.
But she has heard them! Me too she has heard.
Heaviness, sleep comes over me, deep sleep:
Can it, so imperturbable, be death?
And do I for the last time place thy lip
Where it may yet draw life from me, my child!
Thou, who alone canst save him, thou wilt save.
[She dies: the child on her bosom still sleeping.
| Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams | |