660
POEMS WRITTEN IN 1822
X
Well might the plant grow beautiful and strong,
Even if the air and sun[1] had smiled not on it;
For one wept o'er it all the winter long
Tears pure as Heaven's rain, which fell upon it 70
Hour after hour; for sounds of softest song
Mixed with the stringed melodies that won if
To leave the gentle lips on which it slept,
Had loosed the heart of him who sat and wept.
Well might the plant grow beautiful and strong,
Even if the air and sun[1] had smiled not on it;
For one wept o'er it all the winter long
Tears pure as Heaven's rain, which fell upon it 70
Hour after hour; for sounds of softest song
Mixed with the stringed melodies that won if
To leave the gentle lips on which it slept,
Had loosed the heart of him who sat and wept.
XI
Had loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and flowers 75
On which he wept, the while the savage storm
Waked by the darkest of December's hours
Was raving round the chamber hushed and warm;
The birds were shivering in their leafless bowers,
The fish were frozen in the pools, the form 80
Of every summer plant was dead . . .
Whilst this . . .
········
Had loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and flowers 75
On which he wept, the while the savage storm
Waked by the darkest of December's hours
Was raving round the chamber hushed and warm;
The birds were shivering in their leafless bowers,
The fish were frozen in the pools, the form 80
Of every summer plant was dead . . .
Whilst this . . .
········
THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT
[Published by Medwin, The Athenæum, August 11, 1832. There is a copy amongst the Trelawny MSS.]
I
'Sleep,[2] sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow 5
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.
'Sleep,[2] sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow 5
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.
II
'Sleep,[2] sleep on! I love thee not; 10
But when I think that he
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine 15
Might then have charmed[3] his agony
As I another's—my heart bleeds
For thine.
'Sleep,[2] sleep on! I love thee not; 10
But when I think that he
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine 15
Might then have charmed[3] his agony
As I another's—my heart bleeds
For thine.
III
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of
The dead and the unborn 20
Forget thy life and love;[4]
Forget that thou must wake forever;
Forget the world's dull scorn;
Forget lost health, and the divine
Feelings which died in youth's brief morn; 25
And forget me, for I can never
Be thine.
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of
The dead and the unborn 20
Forget thy life and love;[4]
Forget that thou must wake forever;
Forget the world's dull scorn;
Forget lost health, and the divine
Feelings which died in youth's brief morn; 25
And forget me, for I can never
Be thine.
IV
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,
My soul weeps healing rain
On thee, thou withered flower! 30
It breathes mute music on thy sleep
Its odour calms thy brain!
Its light within thy gloomy breast
Spreads like a second youth again.
By mine thy being is to its deep 35
Possessed.
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,
My soul weeps healing rain
On thee, thou withered flower! 30
It breathes mute music on thy sleep
Its odour calms thy brain!
Its light within thy gloomy breast
Spreads like a second youth again.
By mine thy being is to its deep 35
Possessed.
