 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
A CHINESE LOVE SONG.
Oh! bright Yeang-tcheou!—Oh! thou radiant one,
With the lustrous, and loving, and almond-shaped eyes,
'Midst the depths of whose darkness there reigneth a Sun
More Royal than that which hath Rule in the Skies.
With the lustrous, and loving, and almond-shaped eyes,
'Midst the depths of whose darkness there reigneth a Sun
More Royal than that which hath Rule in the Skies.
111
Now while wandering lone 'mongst thy columned halls,
Where coloured lamps and rich vases outshine—
Or by shadowing trees and by bright waterfalls—
O speak! have I one thought—nay, all thoughts of thine?
Where coloured lamps and rich vases outshine—
Or by shadowing trees and by bright waterfalls—
O speak! have I one thought—nay, all thoughts of thine?
Say! weepest thou beside those clear founts, mine own!
Which free through thy Father's proud gardens play,
Whilst I, where Caucasia's mountains frown,
In unceasing grief pine my life away?
Which free through thy Father's proud gardens play,
Whilst I, where Caucasia's mountains frown,
In unceasing grief pine my life away?
Could thy Sire but my desolate Spirit behold,
His haughty heart might be softened at last;
Too ruggedly stern, and too rigidly cold,
Through the long-lamented and bitter Past!
His haughty heart might be softened at last;
Too ruggedly stern, and too rigidly cold,
Through the long-lamented and bitter Past!
Ah! why did he stamp my dark sorrowful doom,
And make me a wanderer—a wretch on the Earth?
Because that I bear not the Peacock's proud plume,
Nor boast the wrought breast-badge of rank and of birth?
And make me a wanderer—a wretch on the Earth?
Because that I bear not the Peacock's proud plume,
Nor boast the wrought breast-badge of rank and of birth?
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Because the stained ball I am forbidden to bear,
And the costly pearl beads that high station proclaim—
Because these proud honours fall not to my share,
And that low is my class—undistinguished my name?
And the costly pearl beads that high station proclaim—
Because these proud honours fall not to my share,
And that low is my class—undistinguished my name?
And yet tho' our dread Monarch ne'er raised me thus high,
Nor sunned my poor fortunes with favours so rare,
I will bless him, revere him, and serve till I die,
With my leal heart of love—my doom'd heart of despair!
Nor sunned my poor fortunes with favours so rare,
I will bless him, revere him, and serve till I die,
With my leal heart of love—my doom'd heart of despair!
And though thus unadvanced by our Sovereign's rich grace,
Though poor my estate, and depressed my degree,
My mind is not sordid—my soul is not base,
But even lofty as loving—bold, faithful, and free!
Though poor my estate, and depressed my degree,
My mind is not sordid—my soul is not base,
But even lofty as loving—bold, faithful, and free!
That proud Spirit no sorrow could wholly o'erwhelm,
To my shoulders the far-streaming war-flag I slung,
Hung high the dyed horse-hair, spear-fixed to my helm,
And mingled the Host of armed Warriors among.
To my shoulders the far-streaming war-flag I slung,
Hung high the dyed horse-hair, spear-fixed to my helm,
And mingled the Host of armed Warriors among.
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Many—many have sunk down in death while I stood—
Oft that flag hath waved free o'er the wild battle field—
Oft my red-fluttering plume hath grown redder with blood—
The foe shrunk from the monster that scowled from my shield.
Oft that flag hath waved free o'er the wild battle field—
Oft my red-fluttering plume hath grown redder with blood—
The foe shrunk from the monster that scowled from my shield.
And yet why do I live—Ah! why, why am I spared,
Since I live to repine, and exist to regret?
While my heart to the Vulture of Anguish lies bared,
While the Star of my hope and my gladness is set!
Since I live to repine, and exist to regret?
While my heart to the Vulture of Anguish lies bared,
While the Star of my hope and my gladness is set!
Oh! Being most radiant—most beauteous, most fair,
As if like the Air-flower—the precious and bright,
Thou but livedst all on the Light and the Air—
Oh! alone on the delicate Air and the Light!
As if like the Air-flower—the precious and bright,
Thou but livedst all on the Light and the Air—
Oh! alone on the delicate Air and the Light!
Oh! thou Child of a high and a haughty birth,
Our fortunes seem severed for ever to be;
Yet still while I breathe on this desolate Earth
My Life is my Country's—my Soul is for thee.
Our fortunes seem severed for ever to be;
Yet still while I breathe on this desolate Earth
My Life is my Country's—my Soul is for thee.
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Young, bright Yeang-tcheou!—Oh! mine earliest Love,
Thou peerless Chinese with the almond-shaped eyes!
When my deep heart Death's fiery pang must prove,
'Tis for Glory and Thee that thy Lover dies!
Thou peerless Chinese with the almond-shaped eyes!
When my deep heart Death's fiery pang must prove,
'Tis for Glory and Thee that thy Lover dies!
Oh! bright Yeang-tcheou!—Oh! thou radiant one,
Full of lustre and love are thy soft sleepy eyes—
In the depths of those dark eyes there reigneth a Sun
More Royal than that which hath Rule in the Skies!
Full of lustre and love are thy soft sleepy eyes—
In the depths of those dark eyes there reigneth a Sun
More Royal than that which hath Rule in the Skies!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |