Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO MADAME LULLIN, by VOLTAIRE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO MADAME LULLIN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: And doth my aged muse forlorn
Last Line: Where doth he go? ... God knoweth whither.
Alternate Author Name(s): Arouet, Francoise Marie
Subject(s): Aging


AND doth my agéd Muse forlorn
Surprise you that she still is able,
Though eighty winters she hath borne,
To quaver lines of ode or fable?

Sometimes a plot of green will spring
In wintry fields the frost makes hoary,
Spared but a while as comforting
The summer season's faded glory.

A bird may warble an he will,
With all his brave days left behind him,
But in his song shall sound no thrill
Of tender love that once did bind him.

'Tis thus I touch the worn-out strings
That foil these fingers once untiring,
'Tis thus I try this voice that sings
E'en though the singer be expiring.

"I would in death's farewell, my Queen,"
(Tibullus to his mistress sighing),
"Fix mine eyes on thine own, and e'en
Would clasp thee with the hand that's dying."

But when we feel life ebb apace,
The soul borne on beyond retrieving,
Then have we eyes for Delia's face,
Or hands to fondle her we're leaving?

Man must forget in such a plight
The deeds that in his haleness please him;
And when was ever mortal wight
Content to feel Death's fingers seize him?

And even Delia, when in turn
She lies with endless night around her,
Forgets the beauty made men yearn,
And love that all through life enwound her.

Birth, life, and death are ours, sweetheart,
And none doth know how he came hither.
Each out of nothingness doth start;
Where doth he go? ... God knoweth whither.





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