Stanzas To Jessy
There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreath’d with mine alone,
That Destiny’s relentless knife
At once must sever both, or none.
There is a Form on which these eyes
Have fondly gazed with such delight –
By day, that Form their joy supplies,
And Dreams restore it, through the night.
There is a Voice whose tones inspire
Such softened feelings in my breast,
I would not hear a Seraph Choir,
Unless that voice could join the rest.
There is a Face whose Blushes tell
Affection’s tale upon the cheek,
But pallid at our fond farewell,
Proclaims more love than words can speak.
There is a Lip, which mine has prest,
But none had ever prest before;
It vowed to make me sweetly blest,
That mine alone should press it more.
There is a Bosom all my own,
Has pillow’d oft this aching head,
A Mouth which smiles on me alone,
An Eye, whose tears with mine are shed.
There are two Hearts whose movements thrill,
In unison so closely sweet,
That Pulse to Pulse responsive still
They Both must heave, or cease to beat.
There are two Souls, whose equal flow
In gentle stream so calmly run,
That when they part – they part? – ah no!
They cannot part – those Souls are One.
Related poetry:
- Stanzas IF thou be in a lonely place, If one hour’s calm be thine, As Evening bends her placid face O’er this sweet day’s decline; If all the earth and all the heaven Now look serene to thee, As o’er them shuts the summer even, One momentthink of me! Pause, in the lane, returning home; ‘Tis […]...
- Stanzas To Augusta When all around grew drear and dark, And reason half withheld her ray – And hope but shed a dying spark Which more misled my lonely way; In that deep midnight of the mind, And that internal strife of heart, When dreading to be deemed too kind, The weak despair-the cold depart; When fortune changed-and […]...
- The IX Ode to Horace HORACE. While I was pleasing to your arms, Nor any youth, of happier charms, Thy snowy bosom blissful prest, Not Portia’s like me was blest. LYDIA. While for no other fair you burn’d, Nor Lydia was for Chloe scorn’d What maid was then so blest as thine? Not [xx’s] flame could equal mine. HORACE. Me […]...
- Stanzas for the Times Is this the land our fathers loved, The freedom which they toiled to win? Is this the soil whereon they moved? Are these the graves they slumber in? Are we the sons by whom are borne The mantles which the dead have worn? And shall we crouch above these graves, With craven soul and fettered […]...
- Stanzas to a Friend AH! think no more that Life’s delusive joys, Can charm my thoughts from FRIENDSHIP’S dearer claim; Or wound a heart, that scarce a wish employs, For age to censure, or discretion blame. Tir’d of the world, my weary mind recoils From splendid scenes, and transitory joys; From fell Ambition’s false and fruitless toils, From hope […]...
- GANYMEDE How, in the light of morning, Round me thou glowest, Spring, thou beloved one! With thousand-varying loving bliss The sacred emotions Born of thy warmth eternal Press ‘gainst my bosom, Thou endlessly fair one! Could I but hold thee clasp’d Within mine arms! Ah! upon thy bosom Lay I, pining, And then thy flowers, thy […]...
- Stanzas To The Po River, that rollest by the ancient walls, Where dwells the lady of my love, when she Walks by thy brink, and there perchance recalls A faint and fleeting memory of me; What if thy deep and ample stream should be A mirror of my heart, where she may read The thousand thoughts I now betray […]...
- Stanzas Inscribed to Lady William Russell NATURE, to prove her heav’n-taught pow’r, That gems the earth, and paints the flow’r; That bids the soft enchanting note Steal from the LINNET’S downy throat; That from young MAY’S ambrosial wings, The balmy dew of HYBLA flings; With partial hand, each charm combin’d, To deck THY Form, and grace THY Mind. She gave her […]...
- Stanzas To A Lady, On Leaving England ‘Tis done – and shivering in the gale The bark unfurls her snowy sail; And whistling o’er the bending mast, Loud sings on high the fresh’ning blast; And I must from this land be gone, Because I cannot love but one. But could I be what I have been, And could I see what I […]...
- CHRISTEL My senses ofttimes are oppress’d, Oft stagnant is my blood; But when by Christel’s sight I’m blest, I feel my strength renew’d. I see her here, I see her there, And really cannot tell The manner how, the when, the where, The why I love her well. If with the merest glance I view Her […]...
- Stanzas Composed During A Thunderstorm Chill and mirk is the nightly blast, Where Pindus’ mountains rise, And angry clouds are pouring fast The vengeance of the skies. Our guides are gone, our hope is lost, And lightnings, as they play, But show where rocks our path have crost, Or gild the torrent’s spray. Is yon a cot I saw, though […]...
- Stanzas to the Rose SWEET PICTURE of Life’s chequer’d hour! Ah, wherefore droop thy blushing head? Tell me, oh tell me, hap’less flow’r, Is it because thy charms are fled? Come, gentle ROSE, and learn from me A lesson of Philosophy. Thy scented buds, LIFE’S joys disclose; They strew our paths with magic sweets; Where many a thorn like […]...
- Stanzas For Music There be none of Beauty’s daughters With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean’s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lulled winds seem dreaming; And the midnight moon is weaving Her bright chain […]...
- Stanzas to Love TELL ME, LOVE, when I rove o’er some far distant plain, Shall I cherish the passion that dwells in my breast? Or will ABSENCE subdue the keen rigours of pain, And the swift wing of TIME bring the balsam of rest? Shall the image of HIM I was born to adore, Inshrin’d in my bosom […]...
- Benediction Blest in death and life beyond man’s guessing Little children live and die, possest Still of grace that keeps them past expressing Blest. Each least chirp that rings from every nest, Each least touch of flower-soft fingers pressing Aught that yearns and trembles to be prest, Each least glance, gives gifts of grace, redressing Grief’s […]...
- Heroic Stanzas Consecrated to the Glorious Memory of His Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver, Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc. (Oliver Cromwell) Written After the Celebration of his Funeral 1 And now ’tis time; for their officious haste, Who would before have borne him to the sky, Like eager Romans ere all rites were past […]...
- Stanzas WHEN fragrant gales and summer show’rs Call’d forth the sweetly scented flow’rs; When ripen’d sheaves of golden grain, Strew’d their rich treasures o’er the plain; When the full grape did nectar yield, In tepid drops of purple hue; When the thick grove, and thirsty field, Drank the soft show’r and bloom’d a-new; O then my […]...
- 92. Suppressed Stanzas of "The Vision" WITH secret throes I marked that earth, That cottage, witness of my birth; And near I saw, bold issuing forth In youthful pride, A Lindsay race of noble worth, Famed far and wide. Where, hid behind a spreading wood, An ancient Pict-built mansion stood, I spied, among an angel brood, A female pair; Sweet shone […]...
- Stanzas Written In Dejection Near Naples The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon’s transparent might, The breath of the moist air is light, Around its unexpanded buds; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds’, the birds’, the ocean floods’, The City’s voice […]...
- Stanzas Written under an Oak in Windsor Forest “HERE POPE FIRST SUNG!” O, hallow’d Tree! Such is the boast thy bark displays; Thy branches, like thy Patron’s lays, Shall ever, ever, sacred be; Nor with’ring storm, nor woodman’s stroke, Shall harm the POET’S favourite Oak. ‘Twas HERE, he woo’d his MUSE of fire, While Inspiration’s wond’rous art, Sublimely stealing thro’ his heart Did […]...
- Stanzas to Time CAPRICIOUS foe to human joy, Still varying with the fleeting day; With thee the purest raptures cloy, The fairest prospects fade away; Nor worth, nor pow’r thy wings can bind, All earthly pleasures fly with THEE; Inconstant as the wav’ring wind That plays upon the summer sea. I court thee not, ungentle guest, For I […]...
- 264. Song-On a Bank of Flowers ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the wood, Who for her favour oft had sued; He gaz’d, he wish’d He fear’d, he blush’d, And trembled where he stood. Her closèd eyes, like weapons sheath’d, […]...
- Stanzas Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs In those dear eyes of thine, To me a keener suffering brings, Than if they flowed from mine. And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee; For my sake combat pain and care, And cherish life for me! I do not fear thy love will […]...
- Illusion WHAT is the love of shadowy lips That know not what they seek or press, From whom the lure for ever slips And fails their phantom tenderness? The mystery and light of eyes That near to mine grow dim and cold; They move afar in ancient skies Mid flame and mystic darkness rolled. O beauty, […]...
- Sonnet XL: On the Low Margin On the low margin of a murm’ring stream, As rapt in meditation’s arms I lay; Each aching sense in slumbers stole away, While potent fancy form’d a soothing dream; O’er the Leucadian deep, a dazzling beam Shed the bland light of empyrean day! But soon transparent shadows veil’d each ray, While mystic visions sprang athwart […]...
- Psalm 106 part 1 v.1-5 L. M. Praise to God; or, Communion with saints. To God, the great, the ever-blest, Let songs of honor be addressed; His mercy firm for ever stands Give him the thanks his love demands. Who knows the wonders of thy ways? Who shall fulfil thy boundless praise? Blest are the souls that fear thee […]...
- Self-Congratulation Ellen, you were thoughtless once Of beauty or of grace, Simple and homely in attire, Careless of form and face; Then whence this change? and wherefore now So often smooth your hair? And wherefore deck your youthful form With such unwearied care? Tell us - and cease to tire our ears With that familiar strain […]...
- Dreams While on my lonely couch I lie, I seldom feel myself alone, For fancy fills my dreaming eye With scenes and pleasures of its own. Then I may cherish at my breast An infant’s form beloved and fair, May smile and soothe it into rest With all a Mother’s fondest care. How sweet to feel […]...
- Stanzas to Flora LET OTHERS wreaths of ROSES twine With scented leaves of EGLANTINE; Enamell’d buds and gaudy flow’rs, The pride of FLORA’S painted bow’rs; Such common charms shall ne’er be wove Around the brows of him I LOVE. Fair are their beauties for a day, But swiftly do they fade away; Each PINK sends forth its choicest […]...
- The Gift I THOUGHT, beloved, to have brought to you A gift of quietness and ease and peace, Cooling your brow as with the mystic dew Dropping from twilight trees. Homeward I go not yet; the darkness grows; Not mine the voice to still with peace divine: From the first fount the stream of quiet flows Through […]...
- Stanzas For Music: There's Not A Joy The World Can Give There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines in feeling’s dull decay; ‘Tis not on youth’s smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. Then the few whose spirits […]...
- Know, Celia, Since Thou Art So Proud Know, Celia, since thou art so proud, ‘Twas I that gave thee thy renown. Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties lived unknown Had not my verse extolled thy name, And with it imped the wings of Fame. That killing power is none of thine; I gave it to thy voice and eyes. […]...
- A Fragment ‘Maiden, thou wert thoughtless once Of beauty or of grace, Simple and homely in attire Careless of form and face. Then whence this change, and why so oft Dost smooth thy hazel hair? And wherefore deck thy youthful form With such unwearied care? ‘Tell us - and cease to tire our ears With yonder hackneyed […]...
- Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? ‘Tis but as a dead […]...
- Lalla Rookh “How sweetly,” said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that tranquil flood “How sweetly does the moon-beam smile To-night upon yon leafy isle! Oft in my fancy’s wanderings, I’ve wish’d that little isle had wings, And we, within its fairy bow’rs, Were wafted […]...
- The Book of Urizen: Chapter VII 1. They named the child Orc, he grew Fed with milk of Enitharmon 2. Los awoke her; O sorrow & pain! A tight’ning girdle grew, Around his bosom. In sobbings He burst the girdle in twain, But still another girdle Opressd his bosom, In sobbings Again he burst it. Again Another girdle succeeds The girdle […]...
- Farewell Farewell to thee! but not farewell To all my fondest thoughts of thee: Within my heart they still shall dwell; And they shall cheer and comfort me. O, beautiful, and full of grace! If thou hadst never met mine eye, I had not dreamed a living face Could fancied charms so far outvie. If I […]...
- An Apprehension IF all the gentlest-hearted friends I know Concentred in one heart their gentleness, That still grew gentler till its pulse was less For life than pity, I should yet be slow To bring my own heart nakedly below The palm of such a friend, that he should press Motive, condition, means, appliances, My false ideal […]...
- Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from Saint Laurent goes. The bridge is cross’d, and slow we ride, Through forest, up the mountain-side. The autumnal evening darkens round, The wind is up, and drives the rain; While, hark! far down, with strangled […]...
- One's-Self I Sing ONE’S-SELF I sing-a simple, separate Person; Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse. Of Physiology from top to toe I sing; Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse-I say the Form complete is worthier far; The Female equally with the male I sing. Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and […]...