 | The poetical works of Barry Cornwall |  |
197
TO ------
Beauty! never more shalt thou
Gently speak unto me,
Nor thy smile undo me:
(I may tell thy witchery now.)
Gently speak unto me,
Nor thy smile undo me:
(I may tell thy witchery now.)
Like the lips of love
Came thy sweet caressing,
Grateful as a sudden blessing
Falling from the skies above.
Came thy sweet caressing,
Grateful as a sudden blessing
Falling from the skies above.
And is thy beauty gone—
And thy voice departed?
And is thy bright eye bright no more?
Oh! why were we for ever parted?
And thy voice departed?
And is thy bright eye bright no more?
Oh! why were we for ever parted?
198
Thou art lying now alone,
Chained in thy lasting sleep,
In those low chambers of the deep,
Where sea-nymphs are dreaming,
And the under-waters streaming
Silently by the coral shore.
And not a wind that wantons here
With the upper billow,
Can reach thee on thy sandy pillow:
So thou wilt slumber quiet, dear.
Chained in thy lasting sleep,
In those low chambers of the deep,
Where sea-nymphs are dreaming,
And the under-waters streaming
Silently by the coral shore.
And not a wind that wantons here
With the upper billow,
Can reach thee on thy sandy pillow:
So thou wilt slumber quiet, dear.
Thou wast buried nobly; all
The elements in their pomp attended,
And their various music blended
To grace thy funeral.
The thunder muttered along the sky,
And the lightning lit his torch on high;
The tempest blew his trumpet o'er thee,
And the ocean rose and sunk before thee,
And its mountains roared harmoniously.
The elements in their pomp attended,
And their various music blended
To grace thy funeral.
The thunder muttered along the sky,
And the lightning lit his torch on high;
The tempest blew his trumpet o'er thee,
And the ocean rose and sunk before thee,
And its mountains roared harmoniously.
199
For me—I do believe that we
Shall meet again in after days,
And I shall, once more, see
The smile I used to praise,
And touch the roses of those lips,
And in the splendour of thine eye
(Now shrouded in a cold eclipse,)
Bask as beneath the sunny sky.
I would not lose the thought that flies
By me, that I shall see thee, dear,
In the bright bowers of Paradise,
As sweet (no more) as thou wast here,
For all the promised joys that man
Hath gather'd from the Ottoman.
Shall meet again in after days,
And I shall, once more, see
The smile I used to praise,
And touch the roses of those lips,
And in the splendour of thine eye
(Now shrouded in a cold eclipse,)
Bask as beneath the sunny sky.
I would not lose the thought that flies
By me, that I shall see thee, dear,
In the bright bowers of Paradise,
As sweet (no more) as thou wast here,
For all the promised joys that man
Hath gather'd from the Ottoman.
| The poetical works of Barry Cornwall | |