The Poetical Works of John Payne Definitive Edition in Two Volumes |
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CADENCES. |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
CADENCES.
(MINOR.)
THE olden memories buried lie,
And the ancient fancies pass;
The old sweet flower-thoughts wither and fly
And die as the April cowslips die,
That scatter the bloomy grass.
And the ancient fancies pass;
The old sweet flower-thoughts wither and fly
And die as the April cowslips die,
That scatter the bloomy grass.
All dead, my dear! And the flowers are dead
And the happy blossoming Spring;
The winter comes with its iron tread,
The fields with the dying sun are red
And the birds have ceased to sing.
And the happy blossoming Spring;
The winter comes with its iron tread,
The fields with the dying sun are red
And the birds have ceased to sing.
274
I trace the steps on the wasted strand
Of the vanished Springtime's feet:
Withered and dead is our Fairyland;
For Love and Death go hand in hand,
Go hand in hand, my sweet.
Of the vanished Springtime's feet:
Withered and dead is our Fairyland;
For Love and Death go hand in hand,
Go hand in hand, my sweet.
(MAJOR.)
OH, what shall be the burden of our rhyme
And what shall be our ditty when the blossom's on the lime?
Our lips have fed on winter and on weariness too long:
We will hail the royal summer with a golden-footed song!
And what shall be our ditty when the blossom's on the lime?
Our lips have fed on winter and on weariness too long:
We will hail the royal summer with a golden-footed song!
O lady of my summer and my Spring,
We shall hear the blackbird whistle and the brown sweet throstle sing
And the low clear noise of waters running softly by our feet,
When the sights and sounds of summer in the green clear fields are sweet.
We shall hear the blackbird whistle and the brown sweet throstle sing
And the low clear noise of waters running softly by our feet,
When the sights and sounds of summer in the green clear fields are sweet.
We shall see the roses blowing in the green,
The pink-lipped roses kissing in the golden summer-sheen;
We shall see the fields flower thick with stars and bells of summer-gold
And the poppies burn out red and sweet across the corncrowned wold.
The pink-lipped roses kissing in the golden summer-sheen;
We shall see the fields flower thick with stars and bells of summer-gold
And the poppies burn out red and sweet across the corncrowned wold.
The time shall be for pleasure, not for pain;
There shall come no ghost of grieving for the past betwixt us twain;
But in the time of roses our lives shall grow together
And our love be as the love of gods in the blue Olympic weather.
There shall come no ghost of grieving for the past betwixt us twain;
But in the time of roses our lives shall grow together
And our love be as the love of gods in the blue Olympic weather.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |