The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
|
ANTHEA'S GARLAND |
 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
ANTHEA'S GARLAND
Roses, bright with tears of rain,
Which Anthea's tresses bind,
Proudly in her service slain,
Shed your blossoms on the wind.
Which Anthea's tresses bind,
Proudly in her service slain,
Shed your blossoms on the wind.
Petals, pure as ocean shell,
Leaf by leaf must fall away:
As from raptured philomel,
Note by note, descends her lay,
Leaf by leaf must fall away:
As from raptured philomel,
Note by note, descends her lay,
400
Cadence shaken on the gale,
Fragments of divine desire,
When the enamoured nightingale
Breaks her heart against a brier.
Fragments of divine desire,
When the enamoured nightingale
Breaks her heart against a brier.
So let my Anthea's wreath
Perish with a royal doom,
Wasted by the May-god's breath,
Dirged by zephyrs to its tomb.
Perish with a royal doom,
Wasted by the May-god's breath,
Dirged by zephyrs to its tomb.
Die and break upon her breast,
Where the sister roses lie;
Perish near the ambrosial nest,
Where a dove might come to die.
Where the sister roses lie;
Perish near the ambrosial nest,
Where a dove might come to die.
Till she turn her lustrous eyes
Downwards on each ruined flower,
Musing with a world of sighs—
“Love is broken in an hour.
Downwards on each ruined flower,
Musing with a world of sighs—
“Love is broken in an hour.
“Let me sing thy requiem,
Wasted wreath, which bound my hair,
Roses pleasant on the stem,
Sweetened in the crystal air.
Wasted wreath, which bound my hair,
Roses pleasant on the stem,
Sweetened in the crystal air.
“Let me speak your epitaph,
Garland roses, soon to die.
On the maiden's heedless laugh,
Comes the mother's anxious sigh.
Garland roses, soon to die.
On the maiden's heedless laugh,
Comes the mother's anxious sigh.
“Gay to-day and gray to-morrow,
Sad at eve, at morning blithe,
Runs the burden of our sorrow,
While the Time-God whets his scythe.
Sad at eve, at morning blithe,
Runs the burden of our sorrow,
While the Time-God whets his scythe.
“Not in scorn or idle laughter
Empty solace will I seek;
As this faded wreath, hereafter
Soon will fade my damask cheek.
Empty solace will I seek;
As this faded wreath, hereafter
Soon will fade my damask cheek.
“In Youth's iris-purpled spaces
Lovers join their lips in trust:
In the realm of faded faces
Youth and Love return to dust.
Lovers join their lips in trust:
In the realm of faded faces
Youth and Love return to dust.
401
“Hail, ye soon dismembered roses,
Hail, dishevelled wreath forlorn.
In the gracious garden closes
Noon repairs the wrecks of morn.
Hail, dishevelled wreath forlorn.
In the gracious garden closes
Noon repairs the wrecks of morn.
“Soon they blow and soon they perish,
Bud and bloom and melt as snows.
And this god, whom maidens cherish,
Love, is briefer than a rose.”
Bud and bloom and melt as snows.
And this god, whom maidens cherish,
Love, is briefer than a rose.”
So she mused and so she ended,
First she laughed and then she frowned,
For the garland, once so splendid,
Lay in fragments on the ground.
First she laughed and then she frowned,
For the garland, once so splendid,
Lay in fragments on the ground.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |