The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) Selected and revised by the author. Copyright edition. In two volumes |
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REQUIESCAT. |
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 | The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) |  |
187
REQUIESCAT.
I sought to build a deathless monumentTo my dead love. Therein I meant to place
All precious things, and rare: as Nature blent
All single sweetnesses in one sweet face.
I could not build it worthy her mute merit,
Nor worthy her white brows and holy eyes,
Nor worthy of her perfect and pure spirit,
Nor of my own immortal memories.
But, as some rapt artificer of old,
To enshrine the ashes of a virgin saint,
Might scheme to work with ivory, and fine gold,
And carven gems, and legended and quaint
Seraphic heraldries; searching far lands,
Orient and occident, for all things rare,
To consecrate the toil of reverent hands,
And make his labour, like her virtue, fair;
Knowing no beauty beautiful as she,
And all his labour void, but to beguile
A sacred sorrow; so I work'd. Ah, see
Here are the fragments of my shatter'd pile!
I keep them, and the flowers that sprang between
Their broken workmanship—the flowers and weeds!
Sleep soft among the violets, O my Queen—
Lie calm among my ruin'd thoughts and deeds.
| The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) | |