 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
L'ENVOI
Thou askest overmuch of song to bid its trammelled numbers
Arouse from graves long undisturbed, dead memories that have lain,—
To bid it with exorcist spell break through their hallowed slumbers,
And raise a crowd of spectres thou shalt never still again.
Arouse from graves long undisturbed, dead memories that have lain,—
To bid it with exorcist spell break through their hallowed slumbers,
And raise a crowd of spectres thou shalt never still again.
Thou askest for those lays to which thine ear once loved to listen,
Ah me! the harp is all unstrung! it's golden tones are fled
No more the pearl-drop at its sound in sympathy shall glisten
Upon thine eyelash, telling more than ever words have said.
Ah me! the harp is all unstrung! it's golden tones are fled
No more the pearl-drop at its sound in sympathy shall glisten
Upon thine eyelash, telling more than ever words have said.
485
Those strains that sank into our ears, those words our hearts have noted!
Ah me, the harp is broken, all its golden chords unstrung!
There was a time its melody our trancéd souls has floated
On amber streams, by emerald meads—that dreamland of the young.
Ah me, the harp is broken, all its golden chords unstrung!
There was a time its melody our trancéd souls has floated
On amber streams, by emerald meads—that dreamland of the young.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |