Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GARDENS OF ADONIS, by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE Poet's Biography First Line: Beloved, I would tell a ghostly thing Last Line: And we, the summer long, shall bring thee flowers. Subject(s): Adonis; Gardens & Gardening; Love; Mythology - Classical; Spring | ||||||||
BELOVED, I would tell a ghostly thing That hides beneath the simple name of Spring; Wild beyond hope the news -- the dead return, The shapes that slept, their breath a frozen mist, Ascend from out sarcophagus and urn, Lips that were dust new redden to be kissed, Fires that were quenched re-burn. The gardens of Adonis bloom again, Proserpina may hold the lad no more, That in her arms the winter through hath lain; Up flings he from the hollow-sounding door, Where Love hath bruised her rosy breast in vain: Ah! through their tears -- the happy April rain -- They, like two stars aflame, together run, Then lift immortal faces in the sun. A faint far music steals from underground, And to the spirit's ear there comes the sound, The whisper vague, and rustle delicate, Of myriad atoms stirring in their trance That for the lifted hand of Order wait, Taking their stations in the cosmic dance, Mate linked to mystic mate. And perished shapes rebuild themselves anew, Nourished on essences of fire and dew, And in earth's cheek, but now so wistful wan, The colour floods, and from deep wells of power Rises the sap of resurrection; The dead branch buds, the dry staff breaks in flower, The grass comes surging on. These ghostly things that in November died, How come they thus again adream with pride? I saw the Red Rose lying in her tomb, Yet comes she lovelier back, a redder rose; What paints upon her cheek this vampire bloom? Beloved, when to the dark thy beauty goes, Thee too will Spring re-lume? Verily, nothing dies; a brief eclipse Is all; and this blessed union of our lips Shall bind us still though we have lips no more: For as the Rose and as the gods are we, Returning ever; but the shapes we wore Shall have some look of immortality More shining than before. Make we our offerings at Adonis' shrine, For this is Love's own resurrection day, Bring we the honeyed cakes, the sacred wine, And myrtle garlands on his altars lay: O Thou, beloved alike of Proserpine And Aphrodite, to our prayers incline; Be thou propitious to this love of ours, And we, the summer long, shall bring thee flowers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING LEMONADE by TONY HOAGLAND A SPRING SONG by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN SPRING'S RETURN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SPRING FLOODS by MAURICE BARING SPRING IN WINTER by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES SPRING ON THE PRAIRIE by HERBERT BATES THE FARMER'S BOY: SPRING by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE AFTER THE WAR by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE WHAT OF THE DARKNESS?; TO THE HAPPY DEAD PEOPLE by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE |
|