Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: WARNINGS, by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON



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THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: WARNINGS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Beware, beware of witchery!
Last Line: Cordelia!
Alternate Author Name(s): Meredith, Owen; Lytton, 1st Earl Of; Lytton, Robert
Subject(s): Italy; Travel; Italians; Journeys; Trips


BEWARE, beware of witchery!
And fall not in the snare
That lurks and lies in wanton eyes,
Or hides in golden hair:
For the Witch hath sworn to catch thee,
And her spells are on the air.
"Thou art fair, fair, fatal fair,
O Irene!

What is it, what is it,
In the whispers of the leaves?
In the night-wind, when its bosom,
With the shower in it, grieves?
In the breaking of the breaker,
As it breaks upon the beach
Through the silence of the night?
Cordelia! Cordelia!
A warning in my ear --
"Not here! not here! not here!
But seek her yet, and seek her,
Seek her ever out of reach,
Out of reach, and out of sight!"
Cordelia!
Eyes on mine, when none can view me!
And a magic murmur through me!
And a presence out of Fairyland,
Invisible, yet near!
Cordelia!
"In a time which hath not been:
In a land thou hast not seen:
Thou shalt find her, but not now:
Thou shalt meet her, but not here":
Cordelia! Cordelia!
"In the falling of the snow:
In the fading of the year:
When the light of hope is low,
And the last red leaf is sere."
Cordelia!

And my senses lie asleep, fast asleep,
O Irene!
In the chambers of this Sorceress, the South,
In a slumber dim and deep,
She is seeking yet to keep,
Brimful of poisoned perfumes,
The shut blossom of my youth.
O fatal, fatal fair Irene!

But the whispering of the leaves,
And the night-wind, when it grieves,
And the breaking of the breaker,
As it breaks upon the beach
Through the silence of the night,
Cordelia!
Whisper ever in my ear
"Not here! not here! not here!
But awake, O wanderer! seek her,
Ever seek her out of reach,
Out of reach, and out of sight!"
Cordelia!

There is a star above me
Unlike all the millions round it.
There is a heart to love me,
Although not yet I have found it.
And awhile,
O Cordelia, Cordelia!
A light and careless singer,
In the subtle South I linger,
While the blue is on the mountain,
And the bloom is on the peach,
And the fire-fly on the night,
Cordelia!
But my course is ever norward,
And a whisper whispers "Forward!"
Arise, O wanderer, seek her,
Seek her ever out of reach,
Out of reach and out of sight!
Cordelia!
Out of sight,
Cordelia! Cordelia!
Out of reach, out of sight,
Cordelia!





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