 | Poetical remains (1872) |  |
Elegy.
[Now sunk in dumb despondence on the thorn]
Now sunk in dumb despondence on the thorn,
Where, nightly perch'd, she pours her solemn lay,
Sad Philomel beholds the gradual morn
Bright and yet brighter kindle into day.
Where, nightly perch'd, she pours her solemn lay,
Sad Philomel beholds the gradual morn
Bright and yet brighter kindle into day.
99
Sweet child of sorrow! With regret, like thine,
I too the gold, which skirts the dapple, see:
No joy the gleams, that now more ruddy shine,
Dear as the joys that fly them, bring to me.
I too the gold, which skirts the dapple, see:
No joy the gleams, that now more ruddy shine,
Dear as the joys that fly them, bring to me.
Yet then again, ye slumbers, on mine eyes
Descending soothe my troubled soul to rest;
And yet again, ye pleasing visions, rise,
In all my Delia's gentle graces drest.
Descending soothe my troubled soul to rest;
And yet again, ye pleasing visions, rise,
In all my Delia's gentle graces drest.
And tho' through every semblance ye can range,
Well might ye choose my Delia's form to wear;
Secure that to no lovelier ye can change,
No mien more winning, and no face more fair.
Well might ye choose my Delia's form to wear;
Secure that to no lovelier ye can change,
No mien more winning, and no face more fair.
In vain I call! Obedient to my will
No visions rise, no slumbers o'er me creep;
And now in glory from yon Eastern hill
The sun ascending bids me wake to weep.
No visions rise, no slumbers o'er me creep;
And now in glory from yon Eastern hill
The sun ascending bids me wake to weep.
Ah gentle Sun! So will I bless thy beams,
Though thy return but grief returning brings:
With cautious reverence steal, where hovering dreams
O'er Delia's pillow wave their busy wings.
Though thy return but grief returning brings:
With cautious reverence steal, where hovering dreams
O'er Delia's pillow wave their busy wings.
100
Oh! could I stand with trembling duty nigh
To guard, and guarding gaze upon the maid!
No ruder ray should dare intrude, no fly
In murmuring error her repose invade.
To guard, and guarding gaze upon the maid!
No ruder ray should dare intrude, no fly
In murmuring error her repose invade.
And if, while thus I gazed upon her cheek,
One smile of haughty scorn should haply dawn;
And if one amorous sigh should haply break,
Deep from the involuntary bosom drawn;
One smile of haughty scorn should haply dawn;
And if one amorous sigh should haply break,
Deep from the involuntary bosom drawn;
Now, would I cry, she proudly deigns to smile,
While at her feet I seem my suit to press;
Now ill concealed by many a female wile
Her mutual flame these amorous sighs confess.
While at her feet I seem my suit to press;
Now ill concealed by many a female wile
Her mutual flame these amorous sighs confess.
And can I so the flattering tale believe,
Which Hope, too ready, whispers in mine ear,
And can I so this simple heart deceive,
That still my Delia holds thy memory dear?
Which Hope, too ready, whispers in mine ear,
And can I so this simple heart deceive,
That still my Delia holds thy memory dear?
She now can wander in the conscious grove,
Nor think how there I wandered by her side;
In dreams her fancy now can freely rove,
Nor hear me talk, nor see my shadow glide.
Nor think how there I wandered by her side;
In dreams her fancy now can freely rove,
Nor hear me talk, nor see my shadow glide.
101
Yet be she false; her falsehood shall but show
How fixed the firm foundation of my truth;
For her alone I nurse perpetual woe;
For her in silence drooping waste my youth.
How fixed the firm foundation of my truth;
For her alone I nurse perpetual woe;
For her in silence drooping waste my youth.
For here, when lingering through the extended plains
Their hurried train the waves of Isis wreathe,
The tuneful sorrows of these tender strains
With many a hope, and many a fear, I breathe.
Their hurried train the waves of Isis wreathe,
The tuneful sorrows of these tender strains
With many a hope, and many a fear, I breathe.
And oft the while my head, in grief declined,
Wistful I raise to watch the journeying sun;
Sigh as I mark the distance yet behind,
And bid his westering wheels more swiftly run.
Wistful I raise to watch the journeying sun;
Sigh as I mark the distance yet behind,
And bid his westering wheels more swiftly run.
Then, fondly kind, in visionary charms
Propitious night my Delia may restore;
Then I again may fold her in these arms;
O! be the vision true!—I ask no more.
Propitious night my Delia may restore;
Then I again may fold her in these arms;
O! be the vision true!—I ask no more.
| Poetical remains (1872) | |