Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1824.pdf/10

9 Literary Gazette, 24th January, 1824, Page 58

ORIGINAL POETRY.

FRAGMENTS BY L. E. L. Fourth Series. Gleamings of poetry,—if I may give That name of beauty, passion, and of grace, To the wild thoughts that in a starlit hour, In a pale twilight, or a rose-bud morn, Glance o'er my spirit,—thoughts that are like light, Or love, or hope, in their effects. A small clear fountain, with green willow trees Girdling it round, there is one single spot Where you may sit and rest, its only bank; Elsewhere the willows grow so thick together: And it were like a sin to crush that bed Of pale and delicate narcissus flowers, Bending so languidly, as still they found In the pure wave a love and destiny; But here the moss is soft, and when the wind Has been felt even through the forest screen,— For round, like guardians to the willows, stand Oaks large and old, tall firs, dark beech , and elms Rich with the yellow wealth that April brings,— A shower of rose leaves makes it like a bed, Whereon a nymph might sleep, when, with her arm Shining like show amid her raven hair, She dreamt of the sweet song wherewith the faun Had lulled her, and awakening from her rest When through the leaves an amorous sunbeam stole And kissed her eyes; the fountain were a bath For her to lave her ivory feet, and cool The crimson beauty of her sleep-warm cheek, And bind her ruffled curls in the blue mirror Of the transparent waters. But these days Of visible poetry have long been past!— No fear that the young hunter may profane The haunt of some immortal; but there still— For the heart clings to old idolatry, If not with true belief, with tenderness,— Lingers a spirit in the woods and flowers Which have a Grecian memory,— some tale Of olden love or grief linked with their bloom, Seem beautiful beyond all other ones. The marble pillars are laid in the dust, The golden shrine and its perfume are gone; But there are natural temples still for those Beautiful though dethroned Deities, Where from green altars flowers send up their incense: This fount is one of them. - - -