 | Pot-Pourri |  |
3
THE RUINED PALACE
In a green depth, like a chalice,
By most sweet flowers tenanted,
Stood a fair and stately palace.
There a poet soul—now dead—
Lived in days in vain lamented,—
Had lived to-day,
But was wayward—or demented,
Weak or worse,—who dares to say?
By most sweet flowers tenanted,
Stood a fair and stately palace.
There a poet soul—now dead—
Lived in days in vain lamented,—
Had lived to-day,
But was wayward—or demented,
Weak or worse,—who dares to say?
For his thought was streak'd with fancies,
To all simple truth untrue:
Bizarre as the hues of pansies,—
The dark shades he knew.
To all simple truth untrue:
Bizarre as the hues of pansies,—
The dark shades he knew.
4
And he wander'd from this Aidenn:
Wander'd, and was lost, alas!
Though his own belovèd maiden
Track'd his footsteps through the grass.
Wander'd, and was lost, alas!
Though his own belovèd maiden
Track'd his footsteps through the grass.
He return'd not. Devastation
Housed in his disorder'd rooms;
On his couch lay Desolation;
Vampyres flitted through the glooms.
By the pure white Parian fountains
Lounged the Ghouls obscenely bare:
Never wind came from the mountains
To refresh the stagnant air.
Housed in his disorder'd rooms;
On his couch lay Desolation;
Vampyres flitted through the glooms.
By the pure white Parian fountains
Lounged the Ghouls obscenely bare:
Never wind came from the mountains
To refresh the stagnant air.
O'er the garden walks neglected
Crawl'd the toad, the worm, the snail;
Droop'd the young buds unrespected:
Loving care could not avail.
For the poet soul, the master,
Could alone that place
Make beautiful and from disaster
Free—as Aidenn—by God's grace.
Crawl'd the toad, the worm, the snail;
Droop'd the young buds unrespected:
Loving care could not avail.
For the poet soul, the master,
Could alone that place
Make beautiful and from disaster
Free—as Aidenn—by God's grace.
When he the palace left, and garden,—
The moment that he would depart—
The moment that he would depart—
Speech is vain. And tears but harden
On the world's ice heart.
On the world's ice heart.
| Pot-Pourri | |