University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Beddoes, Thomas Lovell (1803-1849)

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
collapse section 
THE SECOND BROTHER;
collapse sectionI. 
ACT I.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
collapse sectionII. 
ACT II.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
collapse sectionIII. 
ACT III.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
collapse sectionIV. 
ACT IV.
 I. 
Scene I.
collapse section 
TORRISMOND;
collapse sectionI. 
ACT I.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
collapse section 
DRAMATIC SCENES AND FRAGMENTS.
 I. 
I. ERMINIA ABBANDONATA.
 II. 
II. AN APOTHEOSIS.
 III. 
III. The Israelite amid Philistines.
 IV. 
IV. Lovers' Identity.
 V. 
V. Prison Thoughts.
 VI. 
VI. Man's petty Universe contrasted with the True.
 VII. 
VII. Recognition.
 VIII. 
VIII. Reception of Evil Tidings.
 IX. 
IX. A Ruffian.
 X. 
X. Recollection of Early Life.
 XI. 
XI. A Crocodile.
 XII. 
XII. “Bona de Mortuis.”
 XIII. 
XIII. Rosily dying.
 XIV. 
XIV. Speaker's Meaning dimly descried.
 XV. 
XV. Anticipation of Evil Tidings.
 XVI. 
XVI. Midnight Hymn.
 XVII. 
XVII. Concealed Joy.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. Life a Glass Window.
 XIX. 
XIX. A Dream.
 XX. 
XX. Metaphor of Rain.
 XXI. 
XXI. Meditation.
 XXII. 
XXII. Sweet to Die.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. Extreme Acclivity.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. Rain.
 XXV. 
XXV. Life's Uncertainty.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. Kisses.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. Subterranean City.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. Dream of Dying.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. Insignificance of the World.
 XXX. 
XXX. Sleeper's Countenance contemplated.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. A beautiful Night.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. Humble Beginnings.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. A Countenance foreboding Evil.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. A lofty Mind.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. Sorrow.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI. Sad and cheerful Songs contrasted.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. A subterranean City.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. Man's anxious, but ineffectual, Guard against Death.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX. A Day of surpassing Beauty.
 XL. 
XL. The slight and degenerate Nature of Man.
 XLI. 
XLI. A Night-Scene.
 XLII. 
XLII. Dirge.
 XLIII. 
XLIII. Mourners consoled.
 XLIV. 
XLIV. A great Sacrifice self-compensated.
 XLV. 
XLV. “Love is wiser than Ambition.”
 XLVI. 
XLVI. The Murderer's haunted Couch.
 XLVII. 
XLVII. Human Life: its value.
collapse section 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
  
ALFARABI; THE WORLD-MAKER.
  
THE ROMANCE OF THE LILY.
  
PYGMALION.
  
LINES WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF THE ‘PROMETHEUS UNBOUND.’
  
SONNET:
  
LETTER TO B. W. PROCTER, ESQ.
  
ANOTHER LETTER TO THE SAME.
  
THE BODING DREAMS.
  
LOVE'S LAST MESSAGES.
  
THE GHOSTS' MOONSHINE.
  
FROM THE GERMAN.
  
THE PHANTOM-WOOER.
  
A DIRGE.
  
ANOTHER DIRGE.
  
BRIDAL SERENADE.
  
DIRGE.
  
DIRGE AND HYMENEAL:
  
DIAL-THOUGHTS.
  
DREAM-PEDLARY.
  
BALLAD OF HUMAN LIFE.
  
SONG, ON THE WATER.
  
LOVE-IN-IDLENESS.
  
THE REASON WHY.
  
THE TWO ARCHERS.
  
THE RUNAWAY.
  
SONG ON THE WATER.
  
ALPINE SPIRIT'S SONG.
  
SONG: TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE.
  
SONG OF THE STYGIAN NAIADES.
  
THE LILY OF THE VALLEY.
  
A LAMENT.
  
DIRGE.
  
EPITAPH.
collapse section 
POETIC FRAGMENTS.
  
THE TREE OF LIFE.
  
THE NEW-BORN STAR.
  
THRENODY.
  
LINES, WRITTEN AT GENEVA; JULY, 1824.
  
STANZAS. (FROM THE IVORY GATE.)
  
LINES WRITTEN IN SWITZERLAND.
  
DOOMSDAY.
  
THRENODY.
collapse sectionII. 
VOL. II.
collapse section 
Death's Jest-book:
collapse sectionI. 
ACT I.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
collapse sectionII. 
ACT II.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
collapse sectionIII. 
ACT III.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
collapse sectionIV. 
ACT IV.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
collapse sectionV. 
ACT V.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
  
L'ENVOI.
collapse section 
THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY
collapse sectionI. 
ACT I.
 I. 
Scene I. A garden.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
collapse sectionII. 
ACT II.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
 V. 
Scene V.
 VI. 
Scene VI.
collapse sectionIII. 
ACT III.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
 V. 
Scene V.
collapse sectionIV. 
ACT IV.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.
collapse sectionV. 
ACT V.
 I. 
Scene I.
 II. 
Scene II.
 III. 
Scene III.
 IV. 
Scene IV.

collapse section Collapse All | Expand All expand section
previous section The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes
next section

Scene I.

A room in Mordred's cottage.
The dead Floribel laid upon a couch. Lenora and Boy.
Len.
Why dost thou weep, thou little churl?

Boy.
Alas!
I need not say.

Len.
Boy, boy; thou'rt wicked; thou wouldst have me think
I have no Floribel, but thou shalt see
How I will make her live.
It is the morning,
And she has risen to tend her favourite flowers,
And, wearied with the toil, leans o'er her seat
In silent languor. Now I will steal in,
Softly: perchance she sleeps. It's plain she hears not,
Or she would leap all-smiling to my arms;
I wish dear Mordred were awake to see
How the sweet girl will start and welcome me,
At my first speaking: but I'll wait awhile,
And save the pleasure. Ah! thou pretty silence,
I know thou'rt thinking what a happy cot
273

'Twill be when our loved patient is quite well.
Yes, you shall take him his first walk; he'll lean
Upon that arm, and you shall show the plants
New set in the garden, and the grassy path
Down to the church.
Now I will stand behind her,
So,—she must drop her head upon my bosom,
As she looks up. Good-morrow to thee, sweet;
Now for her gentle cry; she's turning round.
No—for she wont seem startled, but pretend
To have heard my coming. Why art thou so slow?
Sweet little wag, I know thou'rt not asleep.
Soft! 'Tis the swiftness of my thought outruns
Her proper motions. I've this instant spoken,
The air has scarcely yet ta'en up my words;
May be she hears not. But I did not speak;
'Twas only thought, or whispered. Child, good-morrow;
Yes, she hears that, but will not stir even yet.
I'll not be frightened, for she surely hears;
Though, if I had not seen her garments move,
And caught the tiny echo of her breath,
'Twere dreadful. Speak, I pray thee, Floribel,
Speak to thy mother; do but whisper “ay;”
Well, well, I will not press her; I am sure
She has the welcome news of some good fortune,
And hoards the telling till her father comes;
Perhaps she's found the fruit he coveted
274

Last night. Ah! she half laughed. I've guessed it then;
Come tell me, I'll be secret. Nay, if you mock me,
I must be very angry till you speak.
Now this is silly; some of those young boys
Have dressed the cushions with her clothes in sport.
'Tis very like her. I could make this image
Act all her greetings; she shall bow her head,
“Good-morrow mother;” and her smiling face
Falls on my neck.—Oh, heaven, 'tis she indeed!
I know it all—don't tell me.

previous section The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes
next section