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The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.)

Selected and revised by the author. Copyright edition. In two volumes
Lytton, Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton (1831-1891)

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VOL. I.
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THE WANDERER.
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BOOK I.
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BOOK II.
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BOOK III.
  
EARTH'S HAVINGS.
  
FUTILITY.
  
THE CANTICLE OF LOVE.
  
THE LAST FAREWELL.
  
THE LAST ASSURANCE.
  
THE DESERTED PALACE.
  
THE BURIED HEART.
  
HOW THESE SONGS WERE MADE.
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BOOK IV.
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
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VOL. II.

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122

FUTILITY.

I

Let us not be dissatisfied
With Nature. She is in her right.
We are ourselves, and nought beside.
As, on a clear spring night,

II

The cold encumbrance of the snow
Drops from the bosom of the hills,
So all my life from thine lets go,
And all its weight of ills

III

Drops from thee. Set thy smooth smile free,
Assert thy youth, bloom forth unblamed
Beyond me! Whatsoe'er we be,
Why should we be ashamed?

IV

That which we are, we are. 'Twere vain
To plant with toil what may not blow.
The cloud will break and bring the rain,
Whether we reap, or sow.

V

All finds its place. We shall not miss
Life's meaning, whatsoe'er it mean.
If this were that, or that were this,
What hath been had not been.
123

VI

Let all be as it is, dear love.
There is no better thing than sleep.
They only fall, that strive to move,
Or lose, that care to keep.

VII

Let go what will not stay. What then?
Seed-time, and harvest,—soon, the snow!
Above the graves of buried men
The grass hath leave to grow.
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