Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1835.pdf/71

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following lines are a translation of an exquisite epistle addressed by St. Beuve to A. Fontenay. It applies very aptly to the fine old Abbey, whose ruins seem the very ideal of the poet's wish.

" friend, if, after struggles, toils, and many a passion past, A vanquished one, who from his car has the worn harness cast; Or whether, drawing in your sail, the first rude wind has thrown Your vessel in some quiet port, henceforth to be your own; Or either some unhappy love, which, lingering with you still, For any further voyage in life has left you little will. And from a path that charms you not—at the first step returning, Like some pale lover during night, by some lone threshold mourning; Or whether, full of hope and truth, you share life's better part, Of love unconscious; though a man, a very child at heart.    "Dear friend, if it be your's to have in some deep vale a home, Where you may dream of faith and fate, and all the great, to come. If such a place of tranquil rest be to your future given, Where every hour of solitude is consecrate to heaven, Oh, leave it not! let this vain life fret its few hours afar, Where joy departs, and glory mocks the wide world's weary war Let not its rude and angry tide with jarring torrent wake The silence that the poplars love, of your own limpid lake. "Ah, stay! live lonely on, and soon, the silence and the sound Of music by the wandering winds, amid the reed-tops found; The colour which each various bough has on its various leaves, The hue which the transparent wave from the bright morn receives; Or nearer, from your window seen, your garden's pleasant trees, Your chamber and its daily walls—or even less than these: All round will be your comforters, and, living but for you, Will talk to you in wordless speech, a language soft and true. Like some safe friend with drooping head, who utters not a word, But yet has guessed your inmost thoughts, and with a look has heard. Yes, solitude amid her depths has many a hidden balm Guarded for those who leave her not, to strengthen and to calm.    "It has been long a dream of mine—a lonely one to dwell, Where some old abbey's ruins hide a solitary cell; A gloomy room, with iron bars across the window placed, And o'er the narrow panes of glass fantastic crossings traced; And green moss peeping forth amid the riven granite stone, And the dim arches over-head with ivy overgrown." ———————