Letitia Elizabeth Landon: Всі вірші поета

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Fairies On The Sea Shore By Howard

FIRST FAIRY.

MY home and haunt are in every leaf,

Whose life is a summer day, bright and brief,--

I live in the depths of the tulip's bower,

I wear a wreath of the cistus flower,

I drink the dew of the blue harebell,

I know the breath of the violet well,--

The white and the azure violet;

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Alexander And Phillip

HE stood by the river's side

A conqueror and a king,

None match'd his step of pride

Amid the armed ring.

And a heavy echo rose from the ground,

As a thousand warriors gather'd round.

And the morning march had been long,

And the noontide sun was high,

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Love Nursed By Solitude By W I Thomson, Edinburgh

AY, surely it is here that Love should come,

And find, (if he may find on earth), a home;

Here cast off all the sorrow and the shame

That cling like shadows to his very name.

Young Love, thou art belied: they speak of thee,

And couple with thy mention misery;

Talk of the broken heart, the wasted bloom,

The spirit blighted, and the early tomb;

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Cupid And Swallows Flying From Winter By Dagley

"We fly from the cold."

AWAY , away, o'er land and sea,

This is now no home for me;

My light wings may never bear

Northern cloud or winter air.

Murky shades are gathering fast,

Sleet and snow are on the blast,

Trees from which the leaves are fled,

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

The Enchanted Island By Danby

AND there the island lay, the waves around

Had never known a storm; for the north wind

Was charm'd from coming, and the only airs

That blew brought sunshine on their azure wings,

Or tones of music from the sparry caves,

Where the sea-maids make lutes of the pink conch.

These were sea breezes,--those that swept the land

Brought other gifts,--sighs from blue violets,

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Nymph And Zephyr: A Statuary Group By Westmacott

AND the summer sun shone in the sky,

And the rose's whole life was in its sigh,

When her eyelids were kiss'd by a morning beam,

And the Nymph rose up from her moonlit dream;

For she had watch'd the midnight hour

Till her head had bow'd like a sleeping flower;

But now she had waken'd, and light and dew

Gave her morning freshness and morning hue,--

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Hannibal's Oath

AND the night was dark and calm,

There was not a breath of air,

The leaves of the grove were still,

As the presence of death were there;

Only a moaning sound

Came from the distant sea,

It was as if, like life,

It had no tranquillity.

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

A Child Screening A Dove From A Hawk By Stewardson

AY, screen thy favourite dove, fair child,

Ay, screen it if you may,--

Yet I misdoubt thy trembling hand

Will scare the hawk away.

That dove will die, that child will weep,--

Is this their destinie?

Ever amid the sweets of life

Some evil thing must be.

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Girl At Her Devotions By Newton

SHE was just risen from her bended knee,

But yet peace seem'd not with her piety;

For there was paleness upon her young cheek,

And thoughts upon the lips which never speak,

But wring the heart that at the last they break.

Alas! how much of misery may be read

In that wan forehead, and that bow'd down head:--

Her eye is on a picture, woe that ever

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Portrait Of A Lady By Sir Thomas Lawrence

LADY , thy lofty brow is fair,

Beauty's sign and seal are there;

And thy lip is like the rose

Closing round the bee's repose;

And thine eye is like a star,

But blue as the sapphires' are.

Beautiful patrician! thou

Wearest on thy stately brow

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

To Olinthus Gregory, On Hearing Of The Death Of His Eldest Son, Who Was Drowned As He Was Returning

IS there a spot where Pity's foot,

Although unsandalled, fears to tread,

A silence where her voice is mute,

Where tears, and only tears, are shed?

It is the desolated home

Where Hope was yet a recent guest,

Where Hope again may never come,

Or come, and only speak of rest.

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Juliet After The Masquerade By Thompson

SHE left the festival, for it seem'd dim

Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,

And sought her chamber,--gazed, (then turn'd away),

Upon a mirror that before her lay,

Half fearing, half believing her sweet face

Would surely claim within his memory place.

The hour was late, and that night her light foot

Had been the constant echo of the lute;

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon