University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Laurella and other poems

by John Todhunter

collapse section 
  
collapse sectionI. 
  
  
  
collapse sectionII. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse sectionIII. 
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
I.
 II. 
collapse sectionIV. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse sectionV. 
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 

I.

There is a land of woods and streams
I know alway in my dreams,
Full of sunshine and sweet air,
And wafted fragrance everywhere—
A land of birds, a land of bees,
A land of oaks and almond-trees,
Where nibbling lambs and children stray
All the livelong summer's day
Through flowery meadows of delight.
A land far seen in coolest light,
With its slumbrous woods and streams
Widening round the Mere of Dreams;
Of deep rest and happy shades,
Daisied lawns and solemn glades,
And twilight haunts for lovers' meet,

208

Where the mystic meadow-sweet,
While Hesper cold sheds influence holy,
Breathes luxurious melancholy.
A land of infinite repose,
Girdled about with wizard snows
And fastnesses of ancient ice,
Where the enchanted mountains rise,
And far, sunlit glaciers shine
Through visionary glooms of pine.
There spirits of thunder make their home,
And cloud-wraiths brooding go and come,
And blithe winds renew their wings
To bring health to all fair things—
And mighty voices oft are heard
Uttering some mysterious word
Of potent tempting. Then, too fond!
Passion of the land beyond
With strange awe confounds my wits,
Shaking my soul with ague-fits—
Agonies—energies divine,
That chill like ice and warm like wine.
All the gladness of that land
Such wild spell cannot withstand;
I must leave its lawns behind
To wrestle with the eager wind,
Grip the rocks in stern embrace,
And meet the lightning face to face.

209

O bitter doom! O trance of pain!
My gentle love, wandering in vain,
Forsaken, by the Mere of Dreams,
Through the land of woods and streams
Seeks me with solitary feet.
Then no more we twain may meet
In angel-guarded solitudes
Where no thing accurst intrudes,
But the seraphim aspire
Bearing their censers of sweet fire,
And the seraphim descend
In showers of blessing—each a friend,
Closer and secreter to keep
Holiest secrets than the deep
Nuptial darkness of the night
That hid her love from Psyche's sight.
O bitter doom! O trance of pain!
O love of lovers, loved in vain!
Beneath a blissful almond tree
My sad love sits and wails for me.