And, like loveliness panting with wild desire Thou beacon of love! thou lamp of the free! To climes where now veiled by the ardour of day From waves on which weary noon, Faints in her summer swoon, Between Kingless continents sinless as Eden, Around mountains and islands inviolably Prankt on the sapphire sea. FINAL CHORUS FROM HELLAS. THE world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: 1821. 10 15 Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam, 5 Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. A brighter Hellas rears its mountains From waves serener far; A new Peneus rolls his fountains Against the morning-star. Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep A loftier Argo cleaves the main, Fraught with a later prize; IO Another Orpheus sings again, O, write no more the tale of Troy, Riddles of death Thebes never knew. Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, The splendour of its prime; And leave, if naught so bright may live, Saturn and Love their long repose Shall burst, more bright and good Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, O cease! must hate and death return? Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, O might it die or rest at last! TO EDWARD WILLIAMS. I. THE serpent is shut out from paradise. The wounded deer must seek the herb no more The widowed dove must cease to haunt a bower I too must seldom seek again Near happy friends a mitigated pain. II. Of hatred I am proud, with scorn content; But, not to speak of love, pity alone Can break a spirit already more than bent. Turns the mind's poison into food, Its medicine is tears, its evil good. III. Therefore, if now I see you seldomer, Dear friends, dear friend! know that I only fly Griefs that should sleep, and hopes that cannot die : The very comfort that they minister I scarce can bear, yet I, So deeply is the arrow gone, Should quickly perish if it were withdrawn. 5 ΙΟ 15 20 IV. When I return to my cold home, you ask 25 Why I am not as I have ever been. You spoil me for the task Of acting a forced part in life's dull scene, Of wearing on my brow the idle mask Of author, great or mean, In the world's carnival. I sought Peace thus, and but in you I found it not. V. Full half an hour, to-day, I tried my lot With various flowers, and every one still said, "She loves me loves me not." And if this meant a vision long since fled If it meant fortune, fame, or peace of thought- To speak what you may know too well : Still there was truth in the sad oracle. VI. The crane o'er seas and forests seeks her home; The sleepless billows on the ocean's breast And thus at length find rest. Doubtless there is a place of peace Where my weak heart and all its throbs will cease. VII. I asked her, yesterday, if she believed That I had resolution. One who had 50 Would ne'er have thus relieved His heart with words, — but what his judgment bade Would do, and leave the scorner unrelieved. These verses are too sad To send to you, but that I know, Happy yourself, you feel another's woe. 1821. 55 |