Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ANTIQUE GREEK LAMENT, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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ANTIQUE GREEK LAMENT, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: By the blue waters -the restless ocean-waters
Last Line: Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Lament


BY the blue waters -- the restless ocean-waters,
Restless as they with their many-flashing surges,
Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!

I pine for thee through all the joyless day --
Through the long night I pine; the golden sun
Looks dim since thou hast left me, and the spring
Seems but to weep. Where art thou, my beioved?
Night after night, in fond hope vigilant,
By the old temple on the breezy cliff,
These hands have heaped the watch-fire, till it streamed
Red o'er the shining columns -- darkly red
Along the crested billows! -- but in vain:
Thy white sail comes not from the distant isles --
Yet thou wert faithful ever. Oh! the deep
Hath shut above thy head -- that graceful head;
The sea-weed mingles with thy clustering locks;
The white sail never will bring back the loved!

By the blue waters -- the restless ocean-waters,
Restless as they with their many-flashing surges,
Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!

Where art thou? -- where? Had I but lingering pressed
On thy cold lips the last long kiss -- but smoothed
The parted ringlets of thy shining hair
With love's fond touch, my heart's cry had been stilled
Into a voiceless grief: I would have strewed
With all the pale flowers of the vernal woods --
White violets, and the mournful hyacinth,
And frail anemone, thy marble brow,
In slumber beautiful! I would have heaped
Sweet boughs and precious odours on thy pyre,
And with mine own shorn tresses hung thine urn
And many a garland of the pallid rose:
But thou liest far away! No funeral chant,
Save the wild moaning of the wave, is thine:
No pyre -- save, haply, some long-buried wreck;
Thou that wert fairest -- thou that wert most loved!

By the blue waters -- the restless ocean-waters,
Restless as they with their many-flashing surges,
Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!

Come, in the dreamy shadow of the night,
And speak to me! E'en though thy voice be changed,
My heart would know it still. Oh, speak to me!
And say if yet, in some dim. far-off world.
Which knows not how the festal sunshine burns.
If yet, in some pale mead of asphodel,
We two shall meet again! Oh, I would quit
The day rejoicingly -- the rosy light --
All the rich flowers and fountains musical,
And sweet, familiar melodies of earth,
To dwell with thee below! Thou answerest not!
The powers whom I have called upon are mute:
The voices buried in old whispery caves,
And by lone river-sources, and amidst
The gloom and mystery of dark prophetoaks,
The wood-gods' haunt -- they give me no reply!
All silent -- heaven and earth! For evermore
From the deserted mountains thou art gone --
For ever from the melancholy groves,
Whose laurels wail thee with a shivering sound!
And I -- I pine through all the joyous day,
Through the long night I pine -- as fondly pines
The night's own bird, dissolving her lorn life
To song in moonlight woods. Thou hear'st me not!
The heavens are pitiless of human tears:
The deep sea-darkness is about thy head;
The white sail never will bring back the loved!

By the blue waters -- the restless ocean-waters,
Restless as they with their many-flashing surges,
Lonely I wander, weeping for my lost one!





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