Letitia Elizabeth Landon

“ Which else were thickest darkness;—for what gloom
Is like the gloom of absence! But for thee,
And thy sweet promises of meeting joys,
The warm embrace, the look of love, the smile,
The blissful words of welcome once again,—
Parting were as the shadow of the grave.
XIV.
Thus far my song hath reach'd again to thee,
With whom my strain began: say, will thy smile
Beam on my harp, like sunshine upon flowers,
Depriv'd of which they die? Oh! if one note
Can boast of sweetness, 'tis from thee 'twas caught. ”

“ Gleaming like light from the long shadowy lash,
Which on it hung like night—but such a night
As when the moon look'd forth in loveliness.
She mov'd amid the dance, light as the wind,
At which the tremulous aspen scarcely bends.
Beautiful girl! ah, who that saw thee there—
Joy in thy steps, and smiles upon thy brow,
Thy cheek so warm with life and gaiety—
Could deem those smiles, those blushes were thy last!
Pass but a little moment, and those eyes
Would close in endless sleep! that even now
The hand of death is on thee!——
There is the wreath she wore ”

“ Spring of the soul, what flowers can equal thine?
When every other virtue fled from earth,
Thou linger'dst still, last solace of our path.
What were the world, bereft of thee?—a void,
Without one sunny place on which the eye
Might rest for sweet refreshment. Thou art not
A summer blossom only; it is thine
To bloom in beauty on the wint'ry hour:
When storms and sorrows press the spirit down ”

“ But 'mid these scenes of wintry gloom, are some
Fair relics of the spring time blossoms, like
The sunny smiles of May, as if some breeze,
Just wander'd from delightful Italy,
Had brought the blessings of its birth-place here.
And lovely are the vallies which extend
Beneath the mountains; oh! how sweet it is
To gaze around when summer sunset sheds
Its splendor in the west; when the bright clouds,
Warm with the hues of eve, gleam o'er the sky,
As 'twere some heavenly spirit veil'd his form
In bursts of glory from a mortal eye. ”

“ E'en in these fond illusions;—ah! canst thou,
From whom it came, paint the deep joy, or tell
What the young minstrel feels, when first the song
Has been rewarded by the thrilling praise
Of one too partial, but whose lightest word
Can bid the heart beat quick with happiness—
Recall thine earliest and thy dearest wish—
Recall the first bright vision of thy youth,
The hope, which was, ah! more than life to thee! ”

“ By the light veil and wreathes of braided rose,
Shading her bosom's matchless ivory,
And fell upon the lyre, like hyacinths
Twin'd fancifully round; a pensive shade
Was on the brightness of her deep blue eyes,
Where the sweet tenderness of woman's glance
Softened the minstrel's fire that sparkled there.—
The song arose; it was just such a strain
The soft Erato wakes, when she would sing
Of loveliness, and love by sorrow shaded ”

“ And bid the opening rosebud pine in shade.
Vain idle wonder! little do they know
How recklessly the eye of sorrow dwells
On youth and loveliness! What charm has life
To her whose spirit sinks in one deep thought,
One feeling, where all others are absorb'd;
One lone grief, like the deadly plant which grows
And spreads its venom'd leaves, until around
Nought but a noxious poison'd spot is left,
Where blossoms, fruit, nor even weeds appear;
All lost in that one baleful influence.——
Such, Adelaide, thy fate, e'en in thy morn! ”

“ How few the favour'd ones on whom thou breathest
The heart's aroma, immortality.
Yet still I love thee, passionately love!
Yet would I dwell on thy fair picturings,
Although thy brightest hues may be no more
Than tulip tints, that colour but to fade.
Sweet Spirit of the Harp! thou canst create
An airy world of beauty and delight,
Far from the chill realities of life,
Where sorrow closely follows pleasure's steps ”

“ How we do love the absent! absence is
The moonlight of affection; then the heart,
Sheds o'er each thought a visionary charm,
A chastened pensive beauty; and the shade
That hangs around, like dim futurity,
Tho' the eye may not pierce it, yet it may
Image ideal loveliness, and trace
Bright shapes, which if the shadows were dispell'd,
Might be but blanks; for never yet did life
Present the path of pleasantness we dream'd ”

“ His power, his magic power, to human hand,
He gifted thee! Thine every witching tone,
In which the soul of music lives; light sounds,
Sweet as a lover's serenade, or wild
As minstrelsy that thrills a minstrel's dream,
Or the deep swell of inspiration's glow—
All are thine own, Cecilia of our isle! ”

“ That love may be blissful, whose roses can bind
For ever the heart to its shrine;
But as well you might chain the light wings of the
wind,
As throw fetters for long over mine.
Thus gaily I'll rove, o'er the blossoms of love,
Just catching their sweets as I fly;
As the zephyr, that transiently bends from above
A fresh flower for every sigh. ”

“ Yes, warrior! 'tis only high spirits like thine,
That teach man the generous path he may tread;
The steps of the mighty are nature's best shrine,
Where the hopes of the young and aspiring are fed.
Yes, warrior! when young hearts shall pant for the praise,
Such praise as the praise of the valiant will be,
He will think of the splendour that brighten'd thy days;—
He will think of that splendour, and imitate thee. ”

“ Or the wild rose blush'd faintly into bud;
Only the languid snow-drop now is seen—
A melancholy harbinger of joy,
Whose delicate beauty is but for a day,
To welcome in the spring, and then to die. ”

“ And flowers, trodden on the blood-stain'd earth,
Shed their last odorous sigh upon the dead;
While she, their fairy mistress, captive now,
Is pale and senseless in yon warrior's arm!
VIII.
The hour of fear is over, and Zoraide
Has listened to the Christian warrior's tale,
And her young heart is won. Came there no thought
Of shame and sorrow, false one, when thy lip
Proffer'd again the vows of changeless faith?
Alas! alas! too often conscience sleeps,
When pleasure's syren numbers lull its rest.—
Oh, Love! ”

“ My Katherine, dear, canst thou not guess,
That form of loveliness was thine?
And smil'st thou at my dream, my love?
No more a vision let it be;
But bid the dreamer's slumber prove
An image of reality. ”

“ The sound of mirth and revelry is heard;
The minstrels strike the harp, and proudly raise
The song of triumph; round the cheerful board
Are gallant warriors! many a one is there,
Whose fame were fitting theme for minstrel song. ”

“ All blow it down; rarely the blossom comes
To full maturity. But there is nought
Sinks with so chill a breath as faithlessness—
As she could tell, whose loveliness yet lives
In village legends. Often at this hour
Of lonely beauty, would she list the tale
Of tenderness, and hearken to the vows
Of one, more dear than life unto her soul.
He twin'd him round a heart, which beat with all
The deep devotedness of early love ”

“ And there her lonely vigil keeps,
While the moonlight beams surround it,
Her hair is loose to the chill night gale;
No more with spring flowers she'll braid it:
Her dark eye is dim, her cheek is pale—
Sorrow can swiftly fade it. ”

“ If you will twine a wreath for me,
Twine it of blooms that vanish soon;
Let each fair hue
Be wet with dew,
But dew that will pass in the smile of noon.
Light is the spirit of my harp—
Twas love and hope first wak'd its strain ”

“ On nature's face, spring from thy sleepless couch,
And mark the moonlight, when no one may see
Thy deep emotion, and no idle word
Of heartless praise disturb thy soul-felt spell;
Gaze on the stars, till thou dost deem the gale
That murmurs by is music from the spheres,
No taint of earth upon thy dream of heaven ”

“ Cropt in his spring of glory, Ernest fell.——
In that lone moment, when all earthly ties
More fond, more holy, twine around the heart,
He thought upon his home; and in that thought
There was a chill more terrible than death. ”

“ Pour'd their war-song in murmurs, fierce and loud,
As they did triumph in the desolate power
That urg'd them now. There was just light enough
To show the black clouds hung upon the sky,
Like ministers of vengeance; and the swell
Of the pil'd waters—that most fearful sight
Of human creatures perishing, with scarce
One moment's warning ere their doom is seal'd.
The lightnings rush'd, and that tost ship is seen
Rais'd on the mountain waves—another flash!
There are the angry billows—but no trace
Of living thing is seen. ”

“ So dwells my spirit on the hour,
When we shall meet in joy again;
Hope has enwreath'd full many a flower—
Oh! may her visions not be vain!
The world has not a joy for me,
Dear as our meeting thus would be. ”

“ I chose the cypress—'tis like grief—
And that may well my emblem be.
I place the violet in my wreath—
Its sigh is memory's perfume;
I place the rose, for its sweet breath
Survives its beauty's passing bloom. ”

“ The golden braids seem too bright to twine
O'er a brow so shaded by sadness as thine.
Love has been to thee as the treacherous gale,
Opening the rose's mossy veil;
Sweetly it came, but its breath left there
The canker, Remorse, and the blight, Despair! ”

“ Fly from the heartless pleasures of the world,
Those passing lights, that dazzle to deceive!
Seek that bright spot of blessedness, thy home—
All that this life can give of pure and dear—
Changeless affection, kindness still the same,
The ear that listens but to soothe thy grief—
That never tedious thinks thy tale of joy ”

“ As when, returning from the fields of death,
The warrior comes in all the pride of fame,
And seeks his dearest trophy in her smile!
Fear, for what heart but sickens at the thought
Of danger darkening round some cherish'd being! ”

“ The sunshine of their fame—their laurell'd grave!
Theirs is the memory of afterlight;
Theirs is a brightness 'mid oblivion's night:
Time whelms the many with eternal gloom,
But sheds fresh honours on the heros' tomb.
In life, they move not with the common throng,
To them the nobler heights of fame belong;
Each heart admires, each lip is warm with praise ”

“ And green, the hue of promise, borne by spring.
He passed, and Adelaide is left with nought
But hope, to cheer away the slow wing'd days.
Hope, frail but lovely shadow! thou dost come,
Like a bright vision on our pathway here,
Making the gloomy future beautiful,
And gilding our horizon with a light,
The fairest human eye can ever know.
Fav'rite of heaven! 'twas thine to pledge the cup
Of pleasure's sparkling waters undefil'd ”

“ Who is there on earth, whose presumption dares claim
A glory like mine, in the annals of fame?
I dare! said the poet; oh! ever will bloom,
The justly gain'd laurels that twine round my tomb:
The trophies I've won are more durable far,
Than the splendour which glitters round victory's car ”

“ When my spirit is tracing some bright and new sphere,
As light as the moment, when joy gave it birth;
Would you stop her gay pinion, and chain her down here
To reality's region—a plodder on earth?
Tho' time, as its shadows and sorrows pass by,
Darkens many a tint, fancy brighten'd in vain ”

“ Of avarice, indolence, and selfish care,
The chains of meaner ones, have given way
Before the mighty fire of the high soul—
Whose hope is immortality, whose steps
Are steps of flame, on which the many gaze,
But dare not follow. ”

“ Once more my harp awakens; once again,
Tho' all unworthy be my hand to twine
Th' etherial blossomings of poetry,
I would call forth its numbers, yet would feel
Its music fall like sunlight on my soul. ”

“ Thou scatterest thy fiery hair;
Thy steps they are bright on the air—
Behind thee a glorious light;
Streams o'er the dark bosom of night.
Where hast thou been? is the sun
Thy home, when thy journey is done? ”

“ Her brow was care-worn, blighted by the scathe
Of fell disease, which had destroy'd her prime,
And wither'd youth, when youth is loveliest.
She turn'd her from my look—the curious gaze,
To sorrow is a piercing mockery. ”

“ All tenderness, and love, and constancy—
A feeling, lighting up thy desolate heart;
A fountain springing in the wilderness;
Or as the breeze upon the fever'd brow,
Soothing the pain it may not chase away. ”

“ There is a multitude, in number like
The waves of the wide ocean; and as still
As are those waters, when the summer breeze
Sleeps on the moveless billow; there is awe
On every countenance; and each does stand
In gasping breathlessness, as terror chain'd
The life pulse down ”

“ While thou wert as fickle as yon changing sea;
But think not, returning, like calm to that ocean,
The wanderer will ever be welcome to me.
Oh! deem not again love's sweet lamp may be lighted—
You may never relink the once-severed chain ”

“ Liv'd (fearful life!) in the sad solitude.
I've hung on the strange witchery, till I've deem'd
The bright creations visible, and seen
Th' enchanted palaces before me rise:
A few brief moments, and how chang'd the scene! ”

“ Of joys, like spring days, bright and fugitive.——
But not long in the myrtle bowers of bliss
The warrior may remain; he may not see
His laurels pine in shade, or the deep stain
Of rust upon his sword. ”