Landon in The Literary Gazette 1824/The Forsaken

For works with similar titles, see Fragment and The Forsaken.
Poems
by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Fragments. 3rd Series. The Forsaken
2258458PoemsFragments. 3rd Series. The ForsakenLetitia Elizabeth Landon

Literary Gazette, 17th January, 1824, Page 41

ORIGINAL POETRY.
FRAGMENTS BY L. E. L.
Third Series.

Gleamings of poetry,—if I may give
That name of beauty, passion, and of grace,
To the wild thoughts that in a starlit hour,
In a pale twilight, or a rose-bud morn,
Glance o'er my spirit,—thoughts that are like light,
Or love, or hope, in their effects.

THE FORSAKEN.

Oh cast that shadow from thy brow,
    My dark-eyed love! be glad awhile:
Has Leila's song no music now?
    Is there no charm in Leila's smile?

There are young roses in my hair,
    And morn and spring are on their bloom;
Yet you have breathed their fragrant air
    As some cold vapour from the tomb.

There stands the vase of crystal light,
    Veined with the red wine's crimson stains,—
Has the grape lost its spell to-night?
    For there the cup untouched remains.

I took my lute for one sad song,
    I sang it, tho' my heart was wrung,—
The sweet sad notes we've loved so long;
    Yet heard you not, tho' Leila sung.

I press'd my pale pale cheek to thine,—
    Tho' it was wet with many tears,
No pressure came, to answer mine,
    No murmur breathed, to soothe my fears.

Ah, silent still? then know I all
    My fate! And must we part at last?
In mercy, gentle Heaven, recall
    Only the memory of the past!

Never yet did the first June flower
    Bare purer bosom to the bee,
Than that which yielded to Love's power,
    And gave its sweetest wealth to thee.

'Twas a new life: the earth, the sky,
    Seemed to grow fairer for thy sake;
But this is gone,—oh destiny,
    My heart is withered, bid it break!

My garden will lie desolate,
    My flowers will die, my birds will pine;
All I once loved I now shall hate,
    With thee changed every thing of mine.

Oh speak not now, it mocks my heart,
    How can hope live when love is o'er?
I only feel that we must part,
    I only know—we meet no more!