 | Lectures on poetry delivered at Oxford |  |
285
HELEN.
IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH.
Amid the green brook-fringing grasses
Droops Helen, with her young life shattered.
O'er brow and arm, in shining masses,
The golden curls are scattered.
Droops Helen, with her young life shattered.
O'er brow and arm, in shining masses,
The golden curls are scattered.
Her white feet play within the river,
As throbs her heart, so play they faster,
With sand and foam-bells troubling ever
Each crystal wave flung past her.
As throbs her heart, so play they faster,
With sand and foam-bells troubling ever
Each crystal wave flung past her.
From a branch o'er the bright flood leaning,
To watch each shadow as it glances,
A bird sings with such force and meaning,
She hears (it seems) not fancies.
To watch each shadow as it glances,
A bird sings with such force and meaning,
She hears (it seems) not fancies.
Remonstrance warbled thus: ‘Oh, maiden,
Why taint my pure stream thus? Why wrong her?
With sand and foam, and tears o'erladen,
She mirrors heaven no longer.
Why taint my pure stream thus? Why wrong her?
With sand and foam, and tears o'erladen,
She mirrors heaven no longer.
‘The sun, the moon, the stars within her,
Lost nothing of their living beauty.
Depart then, leaving Time to win her
Back to the light of duty.’
Lost nothing of their living beauty.
Depart then, leaving Time to win her
Back to the light of duty.’
286
The maiden murmured, ‘Yes! too surely
She brightens when I am not near her.
The blue sky, since she floweth purely,
Holds her as dear, or dearer.
She brightens when I am not near her.
The blue sky, since she floweth purely,
Holds her as dear, or dearer.
‘But woe is me—for endless sorrow—
A maiden's soul, unlike this river,
Once darkened, knows no brighter morrow.
Her heaven is gone for ever.’
A maiden's soul, unlike this river,
Once darkened, knows no brighter morrow.
Her heaven is gone for ever.’
| Lectures on poetry delivered at Oxford | |