 | Abaddon, the spirit of destruction ; and other poems |  |
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STANZAS,
Written in the Park of Versailles, May 19, 1826.
O'er the bright lawns of lilied France arise
The purple lights that herald springtime morn,
And perfume floats along the pale blue skies
Of countless flowers from shower and sunlight born.
The purple lights that herald springtime morn,
And perfume floats along the pale blue skies
Of countless flowers from shower and sunlight born.
The daybreak zephyrs breathe their rosy balm,
Bland music melts along the olive wood—
All nature smiles in joy's elysian charm,
The magic of the world's deep solitude.
Bland music melts along the olive wood—
All nature smiles in joy's elysian charm,
The magic of the world's deep solitude.
Morning's young glories with their radiance gild
Park, vineyard, garden, forest, field and tower,
And fairy flowerbells, with night's pearl dew filled,
Breathe beauty o'er the sweetness of the hour.
Park, vineyard, garden, forest, field and tower,
And fairy flowerbells, with night's pearl dew filled,
Breathe beauty o'er the sweetness of the hour.
How silent all! the monarch spell is gone,
That shed its bliss through every bosom here;
Earth's fairest palace yonder stands alone,
No voice is heard—no waiting forms appear.
That shed its bliss through every bosom here;
Earth's fairest palace yonder stands alone,
No voice is heard—no waiting forms appear.
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None but the sentinel's—whose hollow tread
Wakes moaning echoes in the faded halls,
That sound along, like sighings of the dead,
The ruined grandeur of those kingly walls.
Wakes moaning echoes in the faded halls,
That sound along, like sighings of the dead,
The ruined grandeur of those kingly walls.
All else is silent as the realms of shade,
And fountains gush and forests wave in vain;
The slave commanded and the king obeyed,
And wild mirth mocks at desolation's reign.
And fountains gush and forests wave in vain;
The slave commanded and the king obeyed,
And wild mirth mocks at desolation's reign.
Oh! 'tis a weary and a wasting thought,
The mirth and madness—triumph and despair;
The pride and pomp—the deaththroe and the nought
That crown with ruin scenes so heavenly fair.
The mirth and madness—triumph and despair;
The pride and pomp—the deaththroe and the nought
That crown with ruin scenes so heavenly fair.
It glooms the light of love and chills the mind,
This awful dream of desolating years!
In vain, flowers breathe upon the blooming wind,
When every bud is wet with misery's tears.
This awful dream of desolating years!
In vain, flowers breathe upon the blooming wind,
When every bud is wet with misery's tears.
Here blood like torrents poured in fierce affray
When anarch massacre swept o'er the land;
Here groaned the gored Swiss in the trampled way
When proud France quailed beneath a mob's command.
When anarch massacre swept o'er the land;
Here groaned the gored Swiss in the trampled way
When proud France quailed beneath a mob's command.
Here Almaine's loveliest daughter—queen of mirth,
Reigned and rejoiced amid her glittering train:
Here terror hurried o'er the shuddering earth,
And death in darkness came—led on by pain.
Reigned and rejoiced amid her glittering train:
Here terror hurried o'er the shuddering earth,
And death in darkness came—led on by pain.
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Could nature speak—could every matchless flower
The demon deeds of other days attest,
What startling tales of tyrant treason's power
Would rise in throbs from every violet's breast!
The demon deeds of other days attest,
What startling tales of tyrant treason's power
Would rise in throbs from every violet's breast!
How every statue from its throne would start!
And every sculptured lip grow quick with words!
Words whose deep accents chill the quivering heart,
And pierce like arrows plumed or fiery swords.
And every sculptured lip grow quick with words!
Words whose deep accents chill the quivering heart,
And pierce like arrows plumed or fiery swords.
Oh, give me back my wildwood home again,
The deep lone forest where the tread of crime,
The shriek of woe, the clank of traitor's chain
Fall like an omen on the ear of time.
The deep lone forest where the tread of crime,
The shriek of woe, the clank of traitor's chain
Fall like an omen on the ear of time.
Here memory blasts the wreath that beauty weaves,
And the heart sickens o'er the bowers of death;
Stern truth the dreaming soul of bliss bereaves,
Earth's highest glory hangs upon a breath.
And the heart sickens o'er the bowers of death;
Stern truth the dreaming soul of bliss bereaves,
Earth's highest glory hangs upon a breath.
'Tis morn—why wake not Gallia's monarch train?
Closed the dim casements—silent every tower.
Ring out the matin chimes! more loud, again!
Proclaim the Levee! cry the banquet hour!
Closed the dim casements—silent every tower.
Ring out the matin chimes! more loud, again!
Proclaim the Levee! cry the banquet hour!
Still the proud palace seems a sealed tomb,
The glorious sepulchre of gorgeous kings,
Wrapt in the grandeur of a living gloom,
Where spirits flit on dim and shadowy wings.
The glorious sepulchre of gorgeous kings,
Wrapt in the grandeur of a living gloom,
Where spirits flit on dim and shadowy wings.
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Yet by each fountain where the tritons sport
With naiads 'mid the water's sunny play,
Methinks, the shades of other years resort,
Bask in the bloom and bless the purple day.
With naiads 'mid the water's sunny play,
Methinks, the shades of other years resort,
Bask in the bloom and bless the purple day.
For o'er a scene so passing fair as this
Spirits must hover in the charm of love,
And deem it still the haunt of angel bliss,
The realm of blessedness and light and love.
Spirits must hover in the charm of love,
And deem it still the haunt of angel bliss,
The realm of blessedness and light and love.
But, even here, 'mid all that thralls the eye,
Dark thoughts and bitter memories will come;
Though beauty dwells in fairy earth and sky,
Yet lovelier, happier is my own far home.
Dark thoughts and bitter memories will come;
Though beauty dwells in fairy earth and sky,
Yet lovelier, happier is my own far home.
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