The improvisatrice; and other poems By L. E. L. [i.e. Landon] With embellishments. A new edition |
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ON A STAR. |
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 | The improvisatrice; and other poems |  |
295
ON A STAR.
Beautiful star that art wandering through
The midnight ocean's waves of blue!
I have watched since thy first pale ray
Rose on the farewell of summer's day,—
From thy first sweet shine on the twilight hour,
To thy present blaze of beauty and power!
Would I could read my destiny,
Lovely and glorious star, in thee!
Yet why should I wish?—I know too well
What thy tablet of light would tell!
What, oh! what could I read there,
But the depths of Love's despair,—
Blighted feelings, like leaves that fall
The first from April's coronal,—
Hopes like meteors that shine and depart—
An early grave, and a broken heart!
The midnight ocean's waves of blue!
I have watched since thy first pale ray
Rose on the farewell of summer's day,—
From thy first sweet shine on the twilight hour,
To thy present blaze of beauty and power!
Would I could read my destiny,
Lovely and glorious star, in thee!
Yet why should I wish?—I know too well
What thy tablet of light would tell!
What, oh! what could I read there,
But the depths of Love's despair,—
296
The first from April's coronal,—
Hopes like meteors that shine and depart—
An early grave, and a broken heart!
SONG.
Farewell!—and never think of meIn lighted hall or lady's bower!
Farewell!—and never think of me
In spring sunshine or summer hour!—
But when you see a lonely grave,
Just where a broken heart might be,
With not one mourner by its sod,
Then—and then only—think of me!
| The improvisatrice; and other poems | |