Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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A FAIR, GOOD MORNING. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
A FAIR, GOOD MORNING.
A fair, good morning to thee, Love!
Mine only Love and dear—
The sunshine sparkles o'er the grove
In golden lustre clear.
Mine only Love and dear—
The sunshine sparkles o'er the grove
In golden lustre clear.
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The streams reflect the cloudless sky—
One element they seem—
Of one fair texture, one bright dye—
And sky seems blent with stream!
One element they seem—
Of one fair texture, one bright dye—
And sky seems blent with stream!
A fair, good morning to thee, Love!
'Tis the glad hour of prime—
Mayst thou through one Elysium move,
From morn to evening time.
'Tis the glad hour of prime—
Mayst thou through one Elysium move,
From morn to evening time.
The light leaves,—wind-swayed, dance and play,—
The winds seem dallying there!—
The grass bends where the breezes stray,
How dear to Earth seems Air!—
The winds seem dallying there!—
The grass bends where the breezes stray,
How dear to Earth seems Air!—
A fair, good morning to thee, Love!
The sun outshineth bright;
But I must still dejected move,
Thus banished from thy sight.
The sun outshineth bright;
But I must still dejected move,
Thus banished from thy sight.
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Beneath thy chamber-casement still
I lingered, listening long;
How did my heart's quick pulses thrill,
With vain expectance strong.
I lingered, listening long;
How did my heart's quick pulses thrill,
With vain expectance strong.
I wander, lingering, listless, lone,
By flower and stream and tree;
For me in vain hath morning shone—
How dear art thou to me!
By flower and stream and tree;
For me in vain hath morning shone—
How dear art thou to me!
Dearer than sky unto that stream
Which mirrors it so well,
That each far beam each cloud doth seem
On its smooth breast to dwell!
Which mirrors it so well,
That each far beam each cloud doth seem
On its smooth breast to dwell!
Dearer than Air unto the Earth
In these warm summer times;
(Oh! that my words had more of worth,
But words are tinkling chimes!)
In these warm summer times;
(Oh! that my words had more of worth,
But words are tinkling chimes!)
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Dearer than all things that are dear,
To all that lovers be—
That precious and supreme appear,
Art thou, belov'd, to me!
To all that lovers be—
That precious and supreme appear,
Art thou, belov'd, to me!
A fair, good morning to thee, Love!
Be all thy mornings fair!
Thy noons—nights—dawnings—evenings—prove
Blessed beyond compare!
Be all thy mornings fair!
Thy noons—nights—dawnings—evenings—prove
Blessed beyond compare!
A fair, good morning to thee, Love;
But, oh! 'tis dark to me;
Who must in midnight shadows move,
Until thy smile I see!
But, oh! 'tis dark to me;
Who must in midnight shadows move,
Until thy smile I see!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |