Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: THE FUGITIVE, by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: THE FUGITIVE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: There is no quiet left in life
Last Line: And drove her wild across the world!
Alternate Author Name(s): Meredith, Owen; Lytton, 1st Earl Of; Lytton, Robert
Subject(s): Netherlands; Travel; Holland; Dutch People; Journeys; Trips


THERE is no quiet left in life,
Not any moment brings me rest:
Forevermore, from shore to shore,
I bear about a laden breast.

I see new lands: I meet new men:
I learn strange tongues in novel places.
I cannot chase one phantom face
That haunts me, spite of newer faces.

For me the wine is poured by night,
And deep enough to drown much sadness;
But from the cup that face looks up,
And mirth and music turn to madness.

There's many a lip that's warm for me:
Many a heart with passion bounding:
But ah, my breast, when closest prest,
Creeps to a cold step near me sounding.

To this dark penthouse of the mind
I lure the bat-winged Sleep in vain;
For on his wings a dream he brings
That deepens all the dark with pain.

I may write books which friends will praise,
I may win fame, I may win treasure;
But hope grows less with each success,
And pain grows more with every pleasure.

The draughts I drain to slake my thirst
But fuel more the infernal flame.
There tangs a sting in everything: --
The more I change, the more the same!

A man that flies before the pest,
From wind to wind my course is whirled.
This fly accurst stung Io first,
And drove her wild across the world!





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