Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1822.pdf/53



From that time life was one impassioned dream: He lingered on the spot which she had made So sacred by her presence, and he thought It happiness to only breathe the air Her sigh had perfumed—but to press the floor Her faery step had hallowed. He renounced All projects of ambition, joyed no more In pleasures of his age, but like a ghost, Confined to one peculiar spot, he strayed Where first he saw the Princess; and the court Through which she pass'd to matins, now became To him a home; and either he recalled Fondly her every look, or else embalmed Her name in wild sweet song. - - - - His love grew blazed abroad—a Poet's love Is immortality! The heart whose beat Is echoed by the lyre, will have its griefs, Its tenderness, remembered, when each pulse Has long been cold and still. Some pitied him, And others marvelled, half in mockery; They little knew what pride love ever has In self devotedness. The Princess heard Of her pale lover; but none ever knew Her secret thoughts: she heard it silently. It could not be but woman's heart must feel Such fond and faithful homage!—But some deemed Even such timid worship was not meet For royalty. They bade the youth depart, And the King sent him gold; he turned away, And would not look upon the glittering treasure— And then they banished him! He heard them say He was an exile with a ghastly smile, And murmured not—but rose and left the city. He went on silently, until he came To where a little hill rose, covered o'er With lemon shrubs and golden oranges: The windows of the palace where she dwelt—