 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
A CONCEIT.
Translucent stream, whose waters as they glide,
Thy mossy banks and flower-pied margent lave,
Glassing the while within their silver tide
The reeds whose polish'd shafts bend o'er thy wave,
And on whose breast, amid its leaves of green,
The water-lily's pure white blossom grows,
As Spring and Winter hand in hand were seen,
One scattering verdure, and the other snows—
Much do I love to haunt thy murm'rous stream,
To think of one, and of her fondly dream;
For rises near thy banks Armida's bower,
Amidst its roses she the fairest flower.
Thy mossy banks and flower-pied margent lave,
Glassing the while within their silver tide
The reeds whose polish'd shafts bend o'er thy wave,
And on whose breast, amid its leaves of green,
The water-lily's pure white blossom grows,
As Spring and Winter hand in hand were seen,
One scattering verdure, and the other snows—
Much do I love to haunt thy murm'rous stream,
To think of one, and of her fondly dream;
For rises near thy banks Armida's bower,
Amidst its roses she the fairest flower.
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Spring's earliest violet and primrose shed
On all the fragrant air their sweets around,
And here the star-eyed daisy lifts its head,
And frosts the carpet of the emerald ground;
Here, too, the white and purple butterflies
Flit through the honey'd flowers on glittering wing,
Radiant as meteors flashing through the skies,
Which on the night a lustrous splendour fling;
Here Philomel with music charms the night,
That, wrapt in silence, lists with pleased delight;
But tho' harmonious rang the crystal spheres,
Armida's voice sweet only to my ears.
On all the fragrant air their sweets around,
And here the star-eyed daisy lifts its head,
And frosts the carpet of the emerald ground;
Here, too, the white and purple butterflies
Flit through the honey'd flowers on glittering wing,
Radiant as meteors flashing through the skies,
Which on the night a lustrous splendour fling;
Here Philomel with music charms the night,
That, wrapt in silence, lists with pleased delight;
But tho' harmonious rang the crystal spheres,
Armida's voice sweet only to my ears.
And here the winds among the tall reeds sigh,
Making their tubes the organs of sweet sound;
And melancholy music murmurs by,
As tho' the genii of the breezes round,
Tuned their soft, viewless harps upon the air.
Morn's earliest ray, sweet river, gilds thy stream,
The sun's last look rests on thy waters fair,
And loth to take from thee his lingering beam,
He slowly sinks into the purple west,
Enamoured of the beauties of thy breast;
But did Armida sun thee with her eyes,
Thou'dst henceforth scorn the sunlight of the skies.
Making their tubes the organs of sweet sound;
And melancholy music murmurs by,
As tho' the genii of the breezes round,
Tuned their soft, viewless harps upon the air.
Morn's earliest ray, sweet river, gilds thy stream,
The sun's last look rests on thy waters fair,
And loth to take from thee his lingering beam,
He slowly sinks into the purple west,
Enamoured of the beauties of thy breast;
But did Armida sun thee with her eyes,
Thou'dst henceforth scorn the sunlight of the skies.
Armida 'tis that makes the flower seem fair,
Armida who the common earth makes bright,
Armida's voice with music fills the air—
Armida's eye that gives the sun his light!
Oh! the dark depth of that inspiring eye,
Whose every flash seems sent forth but to kill!
Yet who could storm against such enemy,
Or think to die by such sweet death an ill?
Thus I, tho' looking, die, yet can't refrain,
But look and die—to look and die again!
Oh! hard it is, the fatal truth to prove
That we must die even by that we love.
Armida who the common earth makes bright,
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Armida's eye that gives the sun his light!
Oh! the dark depth of that inspiring eye,
Whose every flash seems sent forth but to kill!
Yet who could storm against such enemy,
Or think to die by such sweet death an ill?
Thus I, tho' looking, die, yet can't refrain,
But look and die—to look and die again!
Oh! hard it is, the fatal truth to prove
That we must die even by that we love.
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |