Laurella and other poems by John Todhunter |
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ANDANTE TRANQUILLO. |
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 | Laurella and other poems |  |
265
V. ANDANTE TRANQUILLO.
Here in this peaceful glade,
Sweet tryst for lovers 'scaped from envious walls,
Where chastened light gleams through the trembling shade,
There comes a soothing sound of waterfalls;
And half you hope—so lovely looks the spot—
To come on Oberon and his chivalry,
Holding their revels in some quiet plot
With bannered pomp of elfin pageantry;
Or fair Titania laid in smiling sleep
On mossy couch beneath her loved woodbine,
Whose honied blossoms bend in fragrant twine
Over their Queen; while quaint-clad courtiers keep
Armed watch around her rest, and countless elves,
In bells of foxglove merrily swing themselves,
Or serenade some rose-rocked beauty near,
With silvery harps and voices icy-clear.
Sweet tryst for lovers 'scaped from envious walls,
Where chastened light gleams through the trembling shade,
There comes a soothing sound of waterfalls;
And half you hope—so lovely looks the spot—
To come on Oberon and his chivalry,
Holding their revels in some quiet plot
With bannered pomp of elfin pageantry;
Or fair Titania laid in smiling sleep
On mossy couch beneath her loved woodbine,
Whose honied blossoms bend in fragrant twine
Over their Queen; while quaint-clad courtiers keep
Armed watch around her rest, and countless elves,
In bells of foxglove merrily swing themselves,
Or serenade some rose-rocked beauty near,
With silvery harps and voices icy-clear.
But now no fairy pomp is seen,
No fairy music heard—
Nought breaks upon the balmy night serene,
Save that the glimmering leaves are gently stirred,
Save that the brooklet murmurs through the dale:
When on a sudden, hark! the nightingale
Begins his song with soft melodious trill,
Tender as moonlight, passionate as love—
As though some spirit hidden in the grove
Poured forth his soul with more than mortal skill.
How plaintively it gushes from his throat,
Blent with the water's dreamy undertone,
Till with one liquid, long, delicious note
It ceases—he has flown!
No fairy music heard—
Nought breaks upon the balmy night serene,
Save that the glimmering leaves are gently stirred,
Save that the brooklet murmurs through the dale:
When on a sudden, hark! the nightingale
266
Tender as moonlight, passionate as love—
As though some spirit hidden in the grove
Poured forth his soul with more than mortal skill.
How plaintively it gushes from his throat,
Blent with the water's dreamy undertone,
Till with one liquid, long, delicious note
It ceases—he has flown!
| Laurella and other poems | |