The Venetian bracelet the lost Pleiad, a history of the lyre, and other poems. By L. E. L. [i.e. Landon] |
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FANTASIES, INSCRIBED TO T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. |
 | The Venetian bracelet |  |
229
FANTASIES, INSCRIBED TO T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq.
I
I'm weary, I'm weary,—this cold world of ours;I will go dwell afar, with fairies and flowers.
Farewell to the festal, the hall of the dance,
Where each step is a study, a falsehold each glance;
Where the vain are displaying, the vapidare yawning;
Where the beauty of night, the glory of dawning,
Are wasted, as Fashion, that tyrant, at will
Makes war on sweet Nature, and exiles her still.
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2
I'm weary, I'm weary,—I'm off with the wind:Can I find a worse fate than the one left behind?
—Fair beings of moonlight, gay dwellers in air,
O show me your kingdom! O let me dwell there!
I see them, I see them!—how sweet it must be
To sleep in yon lily!—is there room in't for me?
I have flung my clay fetters; and now I but wear
A shadowy seeming, a likeness of air.
3
Go harness my chariot, the leaf of an oak;A butterfly stud, and a tendril my yoke.
Go swing me a hammock, the poles mignonette;
I'll rock with its scent in the gossamer net.
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Yet far is the distance 'twill bear me to-night.
I must have a throne,—ay, yon mushroom may stay,
It has sprung in a night, 'twill be gather'd next day:
And fit is such throne for my brief fairy reign;
For, alas! I'm but dreaming, and dreams are but vain.
| The Venetian bracelet | |