The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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WRITTEN IN THE FIRST LEAF OF VOLTAIRE'S “HISTOIRE DE CHARLES XII.” |
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The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | ||
256
LINES WRITTEN IN THE FIRST LEAF OF VOLTAIRE'S “HISTOIRE DE CHARLES XII.”
Thou little Book, thy leaves unfold
A tale of wonder and of glory,
And warring kings and barons bold
Adorn the pages of thy story.
A tale of wonder and of glory,
And warring kings and barons bold
Adorn the pages of thy story.
Thy vein is noble; meet and fit
To catch and charm a youthful eye;
Thou teem'st with wonder and with wit;
And yet I look on thee, and sigh:
To catch and charm a youthful eye;
Thou teem'st with wonder and with wit;
And yet I look on thee, and sigh:
Thy tales are sweet, but they renew
Visions how sad, yet ah, how dear!
Vain fancies mock my wandering view,
And recollection wakes a tear.
Visions how sad, yet ah, how dear!
Vain fancies mock my wandering view,
And recollection wakes a tear.
Thou bid'st me think upon the hours
When giddy Tizy round me ran;
When glad I left Etona's bowers,
To laugh with laughing Mary Anne:
When giddy Tizy round me ran;
When glad I left Etona's bowers,
To laugh with laughing Mary Anne:
257
When Susan's voice of tenderness
My darkest sorrows could beguile;
When study wore its fairest dress,
Adorned by good Eliza's smile.
My darkest sorrows could beguile;
When study wore its fairest dress,
Adorned by good Eliza's smile.
Alas! too soon before mine eye
Was spread the page of ancient lore;
Too soon that meeting fleeted by,
Too soon those dreams of bliss were o'er.
Was spread the page of ancient lore;
Too soon that meeting fleeted by,
Too soon those dreams of bliss were o'er.
I look on thee, and think again
Upon those halcyon days of gladness,
While Memory mingles joy and pain,
A mournful bliss, a pleasing sadness.
Upon those halcyon days of gladness,
While Memory mingles joy and pain,
A mournful bliss, a pleasing sadness.
Ye friends with whom I may not be,
Ye forms that I have loved and left,
What pleasure now shall beam on me,
Of home and of your smiles bereft?
Ye forms that I have loved and left,
What pleasure now shall beam on me,
Of home and of your smiles bereft?
My lot and yours are parted now;
And oh! I should not thus repine,
If Fortune would on you bestow
The happiness—which is not mine.
And oh! I should not thus repine,
If Fortune would on you bestow
The happiness—which is not mine.
Long weeks must pass, ere I may greet
The glad return of former bliss,—
Ere I may fly again to meet
A cousin's smile, a sister's kiss.
The glad return of former bliss,—
Ere I may fly again to meet
A cousin's smile, a sister's kiss.
Eton, 1820.
The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | ||