Collected Poems: With Autobiographical and Critical Fragments By Frederic W. H. Myers: Edited by his Wife Eveleen Myers |
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ÉCHOS DU TEMPS PASSÉ |
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 | Collected Poems: With Autobiographical and Critical Fragments |  |
290
ÉCHOS DU TEMPS PASSÉ
1
“Oh hush,” I cried, “that thrilling voice,That shepherd's plaint no more prolong,
Nor bid those happy loves rejoice
Thro' feigned rusticities of song!
Too soft a passion through thee sings,
Too yearning-sweet the phrases flow;
Too deep that music strikes, and brings
The tears of long ago.
2
“Ah! let me keep my frozen peace,Forget with years the ardent boy,
And face the waking world, and cease
To dream of passion, dream of joy!
And yet this heart how strangely yearned!
How seemed the dream more true than day!
What flame was that which through me burned,
And burns, and fades away?”
291
3
But she, whose young blood softly stirredHad bid the unconscious maiden sing,
Heart-whole, and simply as a bird
That feels the onset of the spring,—
She from mine eyes their secret drew,
Learnt from my lips the lover's tone,
And in my soul's confusion knew
The impulse of her own.
4
Who is herself my vision's truth,Herself my heart's unknown desire,
Herself the hope that led my youth
With counterchange of cloud and fire;—
Then let her sing as Love has willed
Of mimic loves that die in air,—
A deeper strain my soul has filled,
Herself the music there.
| Collected Poems: With Autobiographical and Critical Fragments | |