Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG (3), by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON


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First Line: Farewell, farewell! I'll dream no more; / 'tis misery to be dreaming
Last Line: Thus sang the lady isabelle.
Alternate Author Name(s): L. E. L.; Maclean, Letitia


FAREWELL, farewell, I'll dream no more
'Tis misery to be dreaming;
Farewell, farewell, and I will be
At least like thee in seeming.
I will go forth to the green vale,
Where the sweet wild flowers are dwelling,
Where the leaves and the birds together sing,
And the woodland fount is welling.
Not there, not there, too much of bloom
Has spring flung o'er each blossom;
The tranquil place too much contrasts
The unrest of my bosom.
I will go to the lighted halls,
Where midnight passes fleetest;
Oh! memory there too much recals
Of saddest and of sweetest.
I'll turn me to the gifted page
Where the bard his soul is flinging;
Too well it echoes mine own heart,
Breaking e'en while singing.
I must have rest; oh! heart of mine,
When wilt thou lose thy sorrow?
Never, till in the quiet grave;
Would I slept there to-morrow!

ROSEBUD mouth, sunny brow,
Wore she who, fairy-like, sprung now
Beside the harp. Careless she hung
Over the chords; her bright air flung
A sunshine round her. Light laugh'd she,
"All too sad are your songs for me;
Let me try if the strings will breathe
For minstrel of the aspen wreath."
Lightly the answering prelude fell,
Thus sang the Lady ISABELLE.





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