Letitia Elizabeth Landon

“ And the lips parted with a half-breathed sigh:
She bent to pluck a flower that grew below,
Hiding her face thus, all too consciously:
But Tasso's heart drank in a hope, a thought,
Which till that hour not even a dream had brought. ”

“ For I warn ye, we shall meet,
Ere another hour is past,
Before his judgment-seat!
"Spoilers of God's fair earth!
Profaners of his shrine!
Ye have feasted, and unto death—
Mortal poison was in your wine!" ”

“ Where was the fate of thousands sealed,
'Tis calm as a child's rest:
But ill suits earth with such a sky—
One with its soft, sweet stars on high,
While dead and dying thousands lie
Upon the other's breast. ”

“ Life darken'd in the Statue's eye,
And warm'd the veins life's crimson tide;
Breath, mortal breath, was on the lip,
And Beauty caught it to her breast.
Alas! the shape had changed to Grief—
Love ever does when once possess’d. ”

“ Tasso’s last interview with the Princess Leonora.
A courtly scene it was, the tapers threw
New gloss of beauty o'er the gather'd rose,
Touch'd as if with the moonlight's soften'd hue;
And on the ear there came the dying close
Of a lute's love-song; 'twas a master drew
From the charm'd chords such honey tones as those:
Bright tears were in the bright eyes round; but none
Wept, lest one falling tear might reave a tone. ”

“ Shade my now brightening name,
'Tis the strife of a wounded heart—
And on thee be the blame!
For thou hast turn'd to bitterness
Thoughts that in love had birth;
There is no truth in that or thee—
There is no truth on earth ! ”

“ Which is the best,
Beauty and glory in a passionate clime,
Mingled with thunder, tempest;—or the calm
Of skies that scarcely change—which, at the least,
If much of shine they have not, have no storms? ”

“ That deep happiness of love
Which will find all that can bless
In its own dear faithfulness.
As the God smiled on my prayer,
Melts the temple into air.
I waken'd:—said my heart to me,
How like to reality! ”

“ To die with one sweet pining song at last.
Alas! alas! we feel too much we live
But by earth's soil and sorrow: I would give
My own apart existence, to be blent
With the sun-shine, or the blue element. ”

“ The passionate feelings of my youth,
The warmth and dew that made it spring.
Love is divine in our belief
Of its eternity—how vain,
When we have known that Love can die,
To think that he can live again! ”

“ FROM THE FRENCH OF MILLEROYE.
The breath is failing on my lips,
The light is fading from my eye!
My summons hath gone forth in spring—
I know that I must die.
Fall, fall to earth, ye fragile leaves. ”

“ Golden fetters never hold;
They may chain, but not confine,
Not allure—but only shine.
Neither form it all of bloom—
Never does Love find his tomb
Sudden, soon, as when he meets
Death amid unvarying sweets. ”

“ In the Convent's sacred halls,
And the noise of armed men
Sounded strange from cloister'd walls.
It was the vesper hour,
But no vesper then was sung;
Instead of organ or of hymn,
Iron boot and steel spur rung.
The Moon around the Chapel shone:
What wont she to see there,
But aged men bent meekly down
In their still hour of prayer? ”

“ Gone is the elfin reign;
Yet, surely, such fair visions fled
Is more of loss than gain.
But thus it is, as years pass on,
Even with our own heart;
We see the visions, one by one,
Of early youth depart. ”

“ When none are shed for me?
Or sigh amid a careless crowd,
Where sighs should never be?
Why should I love? a fair exchange
Is all my love will give:
As I am loved, 'tis fair for that
An equal love should live. ”

“ Is that upon my heart;
There is no change in earthly lot
Can bid its gloom depart.
Another spring may call
The garden from its tomb—
The green leaves in their freshness—
The bright flowers in their bloom. ”

“ Suspicion more that hurried start would raise
Than all his ardent look had done before:
'Twas poet gazing with a painter's eye—
But love was in that start and in that sigh.
He entered in a small alcove, where hung
A wreathed rose-tree, a snow-starr'd jasmine:
The life-blood to the Poet's forehead sprung ”

“ It wore in days gone by;
'Tis studied, as a sunny mask,
To hide the rising sigh.
A coronet of gems and gold
Is shining through thy hair;
It is not worth the sweet wild flowers
That thou wert wont to wear. ”

“ Yet there lay England's king—lay low on his death bed:
He had three fair sons—is there not one to prop his dying head?
No!—one is sleeping in the grave, whence nothing may him bring,
And one has drawn the sword against his father and his king. ”

“ That cause of change were found,
Quickly it would be plucked
Like a weed from the ground.
But, alas! too well I know
What has made thy love depart—
'Tis thine own inconstant mood,
And thine own changeful heart. ”

“ For my foes have girt me round, and my weary race is run,—
Mine ancient friends have turn'd from me to seek the rising sun:
I soon shall be, like my best hopes, trodden down into dust,—
Then gather round the faithful few whom yet my soul can trust;
O bring,—and fondly as he spoke the aged monarch smiled,—
That I may bless him ere I die,—my true—my favourite child.
How could they speak the truth? how vex his dying ear?
Again King Henry spoke, "Why comes not my child here? ”

“ And with the wind I'll roam.
On like that wind, my snowy barb!
Enough that we are friends;
No other dwelling will we seek
Than where thy fleet course ends.
Alone, alone—we'll dwell alone,
In a world so cold and rude. ”

“ But follow'd her still one dark shade on the billow;
That fair ship! from her could such darkness be cast?
The sunbeam hath its shadow, and youth hath its sorrow,
The fair bark its dark side, and such is mine own ”

“ Lingers on the faithless tide;
Smooth and sunny, who would think
What those waters hide?
Gone, gone, as those flowers,
Pleasures, feelings, hopes depart—
Launch'd upon Life's treacherous stream
By the trusting heart. ”

“ There's feasting spread in gorgeous halls,
The lamps flash round the city walls,
And many a flood of lustre falls
O'er many an honoured name.
Turn thou from this, and enter where
Some mother weeps o'er her despair,
Some desolate bride rends her rich hair,
Some orphan joins the cry!
Then back again to the death plain,
Where lie those whom they weep in vain,
And ask, in gazing on the slain,
What art thou, Victory? ”

“ Upon the scene around:
'Tis sad to think in mine own heart
Alone that change is found.
Like birds and winds that pass away,
Our hopes and joys depart;
And Nature has no desert place
Like the lorn human heart. ”

“ Hopes, fancies, joys, illusions—as if wings
Were given from their former selves to start:
Or if they linger, longer life but brings
Weariness, canker, hollowness. and stain,
Till the heart says of pleasure, it is pain. ”

“ Glanced the white moonlight o'er the silver wave,
Clear, colourless, with not one stain or shade,
Save when the little vessel past, and gave
Its image to the waters, and so made
A moment darkness, as her beakers lave
Themselves in that bright bath: how glad she springs,
Like sea-bird forth upon its glittering wings! ”

“ That his favourite child had join'd beneath the banner of his foes!
He started from his couch, his wither'd hands he raised,—
The lightning like the fire of hell over his pale face blazed,—
"Curses on my false children I pray that there may be! ”

“ Literary Gazette, 7th October, 1826, Page 637
THE TUMULI.
The Dead! the Dead! and sleep they here,
The lost of other years—
The Dead! the Dead! can they be here,
Where nought of Death appears? ”

“ And tones of music fall,
To answer a soft voice singing.
Around it green leaves are wreathing;
And, saved from the power
Of the winter hour,
Some few choicest flowers are breathing.
The piled-up hearth is blazing ”

“ It is the veriest madness man
In maddest mood can frame,
To feed the earth with human gore,
And then to call it fame. ”

“ CHANGES.
Leaves grow green to fall,
Flowers grow fair to fade,
Fruits grow ripe to rot—
All but for passing made.
So our hopes decline,
So joys pass away,
So do feelings turn
To darkness and decay. ”

“ That somewhat they have dimm'd thy lovely flower:
But thou art come, and come again to see
Roses which seem'd as if they fled with thee."
He leapt upon his steed, and like the wind
They speed them on ”

“ Literary Gazette, 11th March, 1826, Page 155
ORIGINAL POETRY.
GREEK SONG.
Well, fill the goblet, till the wave
Dances above the golden rim,
Sparkling as if a thousand stars
We're floating on the purple brim. ”