 | Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. |  |
VOL. I.
“It is a weary and a bitter hour,
When first the real disturbs the poet's world,
And he distrusts the future. Not for that
Should cold despondency weigh down the soul,
It is a glorious gift, bright Poetry,
And should be thankfully and nobly used.
Let it look up to Heaven!”
—L. E. L.
When first the real disturbs the poet's world,
And he distrusts the future. Not for that
Should cold despondency weigh down the soul,
It is a glorious gift, bright Poetry,
And should be thankfully and nobly used.
Let it look up to Heaven!”
—L. E. L.
154
HAPPY HOURS.
Where are they—those happy hours,
Link'd with everything I see,
With the colour of the flowers,
With the shadow of the tree!
Still the golden light is falling,
As when first I saw the place;
I can hear the sweet birds calling
To their young and callow race.
Link'd with everything I see,
With the colour of the flowers,
With the shadow of the tree!
155
As when first I saw the place;
I can hear the sweet birds calling
To their young and callow race.
Still the graceful trees are bending,
Heavy with the weight of bloom,
Lilae and laburnum blending
With the still more golden broom;
Still the rosy May hath bowers
With her paler sister made;
Where, where are the happy hours
I have pass'd beneath their shade?
Heavy with the weight of bloom,
Lilae and laburnum blending
With the still more golden broom;
Still the rosy May hath bowers
With her paler sister made;
Where, where are the happy hours
I have pass'd beneath their shade?
Ah! those hours are turn'd to treasures
Hidden deep the heart within;
That heart has no deeper pleasures
Than the thought of what has been.
Every pleasure in remembrance,
Is like coined gold, whose claim
Rises from the stamp'd resemblance
Which bestows a worth and name.
Hidden deep the heart within;
That heart has no deeper pleasures
Than the thought of what has been.
Every pleasure in remembrance,
Is like coined gold, whose claim
Rises from the stamp'd resemblance
Which bestows a worth and name.
Still doth memory inherit
All that once was sweet and fair,
Like a soft and viewless spirit
Bearing perfume through the air;
Not a green leaf, doom'd to wither,
But has link'd some chain of thought—
Not a flower by spring brought hither,
But has some emotion brought.
All that once was sweet and fair,
Like a soft and viewless spirit
Bearing perfume through the air;
Not a green leaf, doom'd to wither,
But has link'd some chain of thought—
Not a flower by spring brought hither,
But has some emotion brought.
Let the lovely ones then perish,
They have left enough behind,
In the feelings that we cherish,
Thoughts that link'd them with the mind.
Summer haunts of summer weather,
Almost is it sweet to part;
For ye leave the friends together,
To whom first ye link'd my heart.
They have left enough behind,
In the feelings that we cherish,
Thoughts that link'd them with the mind.
Summer haunts of summer weather,
Almost is it sweet to part;
For ye leave the friends together,
To whom first ye link'd my heart.
May 31, 1836.
182
TO MRS. ---
My own kind friend, long years may pass
Ere thou and I shall meet,
Long years may pass ere I again
Shall sit beside thy feet.
Ere thou and I shall meet,
Long years may pass ere I again
Shall sit beside thy feet.
My favourite place!—I could look up,
And meet in weal or woe
The kindest looks I ever knew—
That I shall ever know.
And meet in weal or woe
The kindest looks I ever knew—
That I shall ever know.
How many hours have pass'd away
In that accustom'd place,
Thy answer lighting, ere it came,
That kind and thoughtful face.
In that accustom'd place,
Thy answer lighting, ere it came,
That kind and thoughtful face.
How many sorrows, many cares,
Have sought thee like a shrine!
Thoughts that have shunn'd all other thoughts,
Were trusted safe to thine.
Have sought thee like a shrine!
Thoughts that have shunn'd all other thoughts,
Were trusted safe to thine.
How patient, and how kind thou wert!
How gentle in thy words!
Never a harsh one came to mar
The spirit's tender chords.
How gentle in thy words!
Never a harsh one came to mar
The spirit's tender chords.
In hours of bitter suffering,
Thy low, sweet voice was near;
And every day it grew more kind,
And every day more dear.
Thy low, sweet voice was near;
And every day it grew more kind,
And every day more dear.
The bitter feelings were assuaged,
The angry were subdued,
Ever thy gentle influence
Call'd back my better mood.
The angry were subdued,
Ever thy gentle influence
Call'd back my better mood.
183
Am I too happy now?—I feel
Sometimes as if I were;
The future that before me lies,
Has many an unknown care.
Sometimes as if I were;
The future that before me lies,
Has many an unknown care.
I cannot choose but marvel too,
That this new love can be
More powerful within my heart,
Than what I feel for thee.
That this new love can be
More powerful within my heart,
Than what I feel for thee.
Didst thou, thyself, once feel such love
So strong within the mind,
That for its sake thou wert content
To leave all else behind?
So strong within the mind,
That for its sake thou wert content
To leave all else behind?
And yet I do not love thee less—
I even love thee more;
I ask thy blessing, ere I go
Far from my native shore!
I even love thee more;
I ask thy blessing, ere I go
Far from my native shore!
How often shall I think of thee,
In many a future scene!
How can affection ever be
To me, what thine has been.
In many a future scene!
How can affection ever be
To me, what thine has been.
How many words, scarce noticed now,
Will rise upon my heart,
Touch'd with a deeper tenderness,
When we are far apart!
Will rise upon my heart,
Touch'd with a deeper tenderness,
When we are far apart!
I do not say, forget me not,
For thou wilt not forget;
Nor do I say, regret me not,
I know thou wilt regret.
For thou wilt not forget;
Nor do I say, regret me not,
I know thou wilt regret.
184
And bitterly shall I regret
The friend I leave behind,
I shall not find another friend
So careful and so kind.
The friend I leave behind,
I shall not find another friend
So careful and so kind.
I met thee when my childish thoughts
Were fresh from childhood's hours,
That pleasant April time of life,
Half fancies and half flowers.
Were fresh from childhood's hours,
That pleasant April time of life,
Half fancies and half flowers.
Since then how many a change and shade,
In life's web have been wrought!
Change has in every feeling been,
And change in every thought.
In life's web have been wrought!
Change has in every feeling been,
And change in every thought.
But there has been no change in thee,
Since to thy feet I came,
In joy or sorrow's confidence,
And still thou wert the same.
Since to thy feet I came,
In joy or sorrow's confidence,
And still thou wert the same.
Farewell, my own beloved friend!
A few years soon pass by;
And the heart makes its own sweet home
Beneath a stranger sky.
A few years soon pass by;
And the heart makes its own sweet home
Beneath a stranger sky.
A home of old remembrances
Where old affections dwell;
While Hope, that looks to other days,
Soothes even this farewell.
Where old affections dwell;
While Hope, that looks to other days,
Soothes even this farewell.
Strong is the omen at my heart,
That we again shall meet;
God bless thee, till I take, once more,
My own place at thy feet!
That we again shall meet;
God bless thee, till I take, once more,
My own place at thy feet!
Letitia Elizabeth Landon.
190
THE POLAR STAR.
[_]
This star sinks below the horizon in certain latitudes. I watched it sink lower and lower every night, till at last it disappeared.
A star has left the kindling sky—
A lovely northern light—
How many planets are on high,
But that has left the night!
A lovely northern light—
How many planets are on high,
But that has left the night!
I miss its bright familiar face;
It was a friend to me,
Associate with my native place
And those beyond the sea.
It was a friend to me,
Associate with my native place
And those beyond the sea.
It rose upon our English sky,
Shone o'er our English land,
And brought back many a loving eye
And many a gentle hand.
Shone o'er our English land,
And brought back many a loving eye
And many a gentle hand.
It seem'd to answer to my thought,
It called the past to mind,
And with its welcome presence brought
All I had left behind.
It called the past to mind,
And with its welcome presence brought
All I had left behind.
The voyage, it lights no longer, ends
Soon on a foreign shore;
How can I but recall the friends
Whom I may see no more?
Soon on a foreign shore;
How can I but recall the friends
Whom I may see no more?
Fresh from the pain it was to part—
How could I bear the pain?
Yet strong the omen in my heart
That says—We meet again.
How could I bear the pain?
Yet strong the omen in my heart
That says—We meet again.
Meet with a deeper, dearer love;
For absence shows the worth
Of all from which we then remove,
Friends, home, and native earth.
For absence shows the worth
Of all from which we then remove,
Friends, home, and native earth.
191
Thou lovely polar star! mine eyes
Still turned the first on thee,
Till I have felt a sad surprise
That none look'd up with me.
Still turned the first on thee,
Till I have felt a sad surprise
That none look'd up with me.
But thou hast sunk below the wave,
Thy radiant place unknown;
I seem to stand beside a grave,
And stand by it alone.
Thy radiant place unknown;
I seem to stand beside a grave,
And stand by it alone.
Farewell!—ah, would to me were given
A power upon thy light,
What words upon our English heaven
Thy loving rays should write!
A power upon thy light,
What words upon our English heaven
Thy loving rays should write!
Kind messages of love and hope
Upon thy rays should be;
Thy shining orbit would have scope
Scarcely enough for me.
Upon thy rays should be;
Thy shining orbit would have scope
Scarcely enough for me.
Oh, fancy, vain as it is fond,
And little needed too;
My friends! I need not look beyond
My heart to look for you.
And little needed too;
My friends! I need not look beyond
My heart to look for you.
L. E. L.
NIGHT AT SEA.
The lovely purple of the noon's bestowing
Has vanish'd from the waters, where it flung
A royal colour, such as gems are throwing
Tyrian or regal garniture among.
'Tis night, and overhead the sky is gleaming,
Thro' the slight vapour trembles each dim star;
I turn away—my heart is sadly dreaming
Of scenes they do not light, of scenes afar.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Has vanish'd from the waters, where it flung
A royal colour, such as gems are throwing
Tyrian or regal garniture among.
'Tis night, and overhead the sky is gleaming,
Thro' the slight vapour trembles each dim star;
I turn away—my heart is sadly dreaming
Of scenes they do not light, of scenes afar.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
192
By each dark wave around the vessel sweeping,
Farther am I from old dear friends removed;
Till the lone vigil that I now am keeping,
I did not know how much you were beloved.
How many acts of kindness little heeded,
Kind looks, kind words, rise half reproachful now!
Hurried and anxious, my vex'd life has speeded,
And memory wears a soft accusing brow.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Farther am I from old dear friends removed;
Till the lone vigil that I now am keeping,
I did not know how much you were beloved.
How many acts of kindness little heeded,
Kind looks, kind words, rise half reproachful now!
Hurried and anxious, my vex'd life has speeded,
And memory wears a soft accusing brow.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
The very stars are strangers, as I catch them
Athwart the shadowy sails that swell above;
I cannot hope that other eyes will watch them
At the same moment with a mutual love.
They shine not there, as here they now are shining;
The very hours are changed.—Ah, do ye sleep?
O'er each home pillow midnight is declining—
May some kind dream at least my image keep!
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Athwart the shadowy sails that swell above;
I cannot hope that other eyes will watch them
At the same moment with a mutual love.
They shine not there, as here they now are shining;
The very hours are changed.—Ah, do ye sleep?
O'er each home pillow midnight is declining—
May some kind dream at least my image keep!
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Yesterday has a charm, To-day could never
Fling o'er the mind, which knows not till it parts
How it turns back with tenderest endeavour
To fix the past within the heart of hearts.
Absence is full of memory, it teaches
The value of all old familiar things;
The strengthener of affection, while it reaches
O'er the dark parting, with an angel's wings.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me as I think of you?
Fling o'er the mind, which knows not till it parts
How it turns back with tenderest endeavour
To fix the past within the heart of hearts.
Absence is full of memory, it teaches
The value of all old familiar things;
The strengthener of affection, while it reaches
O'er the dark parting, with an angel's wings.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me as I think of you?
The world, with one vast element omitted—
Man's own especial element, the earth;
Yet, o'er the waters is his rule transmitted
By that great knowledge whence has power its birth.
How oft on some strange loveliness while gazing
Have I wish'd for you,—beautiful as new,
The purple waves like some wild army raising
Their snowy banners as the ship cuts through.
My friends, my absent friends;
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Man's own especial element, the earth;
Yet, o'er the waters is his rule transmitted
By that great knowledge whence has power its birth.
193
Have I wish'd for you,—beautiful as new,
The purple waves like some wild army raising
Their snowy banners as the ship cuts through.
My friends, my absent friends;
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
Bearing upon its wings the hues of morning,
Up springs the flying fish like life's false joy,
Which of the sunshine asks that frail adorning
Whose very light is fated to destroy.
Ah, so doth genius on its rainbow pinion
Spring from the depths of an unkindly world;
So spring sweet fancies from the heart's dominion,—
Too soon in death the scorched-up wing is furl'd.
My friends, my absent friends!
Whate'er I see is linked with thoughts of you.
Up springs the flying fish like life's false joy,
Which of the sunshine asks that frail adorning
Whose very light is fated to destroy.
Ah, so doth genius on its rainbow pinion
Spring from the depths of an unkindly world;
So spring sweet fancies from the heart's dominion,—
Too soon in death the scorched-up wing is furl'd.
My friends, my absent friends!
Whate'er I see is linked with thoughts of you.
No life is in the air, but in the waters
Are creatures, huge and terrible and strong;
The sword-fish and the shark pursue their slaughters,
War universal reigns these depths along.
Like some new island on the ocean springing,
Floats on the surface some gigantic whale,
From its vast head a silver fountain flinging,
Bright as the fountain in a fairy tale.
My friends, my absent friends!
I read such fairy legends while with you.
Are creatures, huge and terrible and strong;
The sword-fish and the shark pursue their slaughters,
War universal reigns these depths along.
Like some new island on the ocean springing,
Floats on the surface some gigantic whale,
From its vast head a silver fountain flinging,
Bright as the fountain in a fairy tale.
My friends, my absent friends!
I read such fairy legends while with you.
Light is amid the gloomy canvas spreading,
The moon is whitening the dusky sails,
From the thick bank of clouds she masters, shedding
The softest influence that o'er night prevails.
Pale is she like a young queen pale with splendour,
Haunted with passionate thoughts too fond, too deep;
The very glory that she wears is tender,
The eyes that watch her beauty fain would weep.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
The moon is whitening the dusky sails,
From the thick bank of clouds she masters, shedding
The softest influence that o'er night prevails.
Pale is she like a young queen pale with splendour,
Haunted with passionate thoughts too fond, too deep;
The very glory that she wears is tender,
The eyes that watch her beauty fain would weep.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, as I think of you?
194
Sunshine is ever cheerful, when the morning
Wakens the world with cloud-dispelling eyes;
The spirits mount to glad endeavour, scorning
What toil upon a path so sunny lies.
Sunshine and hope are comrades, and their weather
Calls into life an energy, like spring's;
But memory and moonlight go together,
Reflected in the light that either brings.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, then? I think of you.
Wakens the world with cloud-dispelling eyes;
The spirits mount to glad endeavour, scorning
What toil upon a path so sunny lies.
Sunshine and hope are comrades, and their weather
Calls into life an energy, like spring's;
But memory and moonlight go together,
Reflected in the light that either brings.
My friends, my absent friends!
Do you think of me, then? I think of you.
The busy deck is hush'd, no sounds are waking
But the watch pacing silently and slow;
The waves against the sides incessant breaking,
And rope and canvas swaying to and fro.
The topmast sail, it seems like some dim pinnacle
Cresting a shadowy tower amid the air;
While red and fitful gleams come from the binnacle,
The only light on board to guide us—where?
My friends, my absent friends,
Far from my native land, and far from you.
But the watch pacing silently and slow;
The waves against the sides incessant breaking,
And rope and canvas swaying to and fro.
The topmast sail, it seems like some dim pinnacle
Cresting a shadowy tower amid the air;
While red and fitful gleams come from the binnacle,
The only light on board to guide us—where?
My friends, my absent friends,
Far from my native land, and far from you.
On one side of the ship, the moonbeam's shimmer
In luminous vibration sweeps the sea,
But where the shadow falls, a strange pale glimmer
Seems, glow-worm like, amid the waves to be.
All that the spirit keeps of thought and feeling,
Takes visionary hues from such an hour;
But while some phantasy is o'er me stealing,
I start—remembrance has a keener power.
My friends, my absent friends!
From the fair dream I start to think of you.
In luminous vibration sweeps the sea,
But where the shadow falls, a strange pale glimmer
Seems, glow-worm like, amid the waves to be.
All that the spirit keeps of thought and feeling,
Takes visionary hues from such an hour;
But while some phantasy is o'er me stealing,
I start—remembrance has a keener power.
My friends, my absent friends!
From the fair dream I start to think of you.
A dusk line in the moonlight I discover,
What all day long vainly I sought to catch;
Or is it but the varying clouds that hover
Thick in the air, to mock the eyes that watch?
No; well the sailor knows each speck, appearing,
Upon the tossing waves, the far-off strand;
To that dusk line our eager ship is steering.
Her voyage done—to-morrow we shall land.
What all day long vainly I sought to catch;
Or is it but the varying clouds that hover
Thick in the air, to mock the eyes that watch?
195
Upon the tossing waves, the far-off strand;
To that dusk line our eager ship is steering.
Her voyage done—to-morrow we shall land.
August 15.
L. E. L.
| Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. | |