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Poems

By Alfred Domett
Domett, Alfred (1811-1887)
  
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THE PEDESTRIAN.
  
A REVERIE.
  
WINTER.
  
ANACREONTIC.
  
THE STEAM-BOAT.
  
[As the April sun breaking]
  
SUNSET.
  
A STARRY NIGHT.
  
DEATH.
  
DESPAIR.
  
A FRAGMENT.
  
PLAIN TRUTHS.
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CHORUS IN THE ‘SEVEN AGAINST THEBES’ OF ÆSCHYLUS.
  
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Strophe 1.
  
Antistrophe 1.
  
Strophe 2.
  
Antistrophe 2.
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OPENING SCENES OF THE “CLOUDS” OF ARISTOPHANES.
 I. 
Scene first.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
  
THE FIRST ODE OF HORACE,
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FRAGMENTS.
  
DEATH.
  
A WISH.
  
IN AN ALBUM.
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COMMONPLACES.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
  
FRAGMENT OF A CHORUS IN THE AJAX OF SOPHOCLES.
  
TEARS.
  
ODE TO THE MATHEMATICS.
  
[Oft when I read the lays]
  
STANZAS.
  
FRAGMENT.
  
TO A LADY.
  
TO ------.
  
WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.
  
WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.
  
LINES.
  
ON THE BIRTH OF A NEAR RELATION.
  
GREEK SONG.
  
[Whence is it mountains, forests, fields, and floods]
  
“GOOD BYE.”
  
['Twas in the twilight once—and Sorrow's shadow lay]
  
“LONG AGO,”
  
ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE IN AN ALBUM.
  
ANOTHER.
  
TO AGNES.
  
STANZAS.
  
FLOWERS.
  
A SIMILE.
  
THE BROKEN TRYST.
  
A SEA SIDE CALM.
  
THE CARD CASE'S PETITION.
  
THE “LAND O' THE LEAL.”
  
“GOOD-BYE!”
  
TO IONE.
  
TO AGNES.
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THE LONE STAR OF LOVE.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
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LOVE AND CIRCUMSTANCE.
 I. 
I.
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II.
 III. 
III.
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IV.
 V. 
V.
  
ADRIAN'S DYING ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL.
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WELLINGTON.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
  
ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL WHEN DYING.
  
SISERA.
  
THE VOICE OF THE PESTILENCE.
  
NIGHT.
  
HORACE TO LAMIAS.
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To “------,”
  
ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF FRISK.
  
HORACE TO HIS PAGE.
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THE STARS.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
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 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
  
MIDNIGHT.
  
[This brave bright Earth with Mind o'erflows—]
  
A SUMMER THOUGHT.
  
TO BIANCA.
  
SONG.
  
THE NIGHTINGALE.
  
LOVE THE POET.
  
REMORSE.
  
SONG.
  
[My own—my absent one! thou who art still]
  
PAUL PREACHING AT ATHENS
  
L'Envoy.

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58

TO A LADY.

WITH A FAN FROM CHINA.

Go, fan—thy journey's almost over—
In many a clime, o'er many a sea,
Long hast thou been a weary rover,
But brighter days are waiting thee!
Yet shouldst thou love thy fortune dearly,
Couldst thou by wandering far and free,
Through dangers threatening more severely,
Serve her whom thou art soon to see!
But thy reward shall be thy duty,
And own how much that duty blesses;
To bathe in freshness beaming beauty,
And wave her glossy raven tresses!
Before thee flies the glow invading
That cheek so fair and brow so bright,
Like rosy hues of sunset fading
Before the cooling winds of night!
Go then, all meaner breezes scorning,
The richest seek that ever blew;
The fresh cool air of April morning
All bright with mist and glittering dew!
59

The sweet airs Araby discloses,
That spicy land of golden dreaming,—
Or lovely Cashmere's fields of roses;
Or Jordan's groves with jasmine teeming!
On—on! äerial depths exploring,
The purely subtle breeze pursue,
Which bears aloft the eagle, soaring
Through Alpine skies intensely blue!
Nor rest thee yet—those airs assemble
Which Seraphs' radiant wings diffuse,
When bliss ecstatic makes them tremble,
All sparkling with a thousand hues!
Go—go—let toil nor trouble stay thee,
For if thou chance her breath to meet,
That breath at once will richly pay thee,
Thou canst bestow no airs so sweet!
Yet haply, after all, 'twere better
To spare thy search through sky and plain,
Whose richest breathings leave thee debtor—
And waft her back her own again!
Sept. 1830.
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