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Literary Gazette, 23rd November, 1822, Pages 745
ORIGINAL POETRY.
FRAGMENTS IN RHYME.
IV. - Arion.[1]
The winds are high, the clouds are dark,
But stay not thou for storm, my bark;
What is the song of love to me,
Unheard, my sweet Eglæ, by thee?
Fair lips may smile, and eyes may shine;
But lip nor eye will be like thine,
And every blush that mantles here
But images one more bright and more dear.
My spirit of song is languid and dead,
If not at thine altar of beauty fed.
Again I must listen thy gentle tone,
And make its echo in music my own;
Again I must look on thy smile divine,
Again I must see the red flowers twine
Around my harp, enwreathed by thine hand,
And waken its chords at my love's command.—
I have dwelt in a distant but lovely place,
And worshipped many a radiant face;
And sipped the flowers from the purple wine,
But they were not so sweet as one kiss of thine.
I have wandered o'er land, I have wandered o'er sea,
But my heart has ne'er wandered, Eglæ, from thee.—
And, Greece, my own, my glorious land!
I will take no laurel but from thy hand.
What is the light of a Poet's name,
If it is not his country that hallows his fame?
Where may he look for guerdon so fair
As the honour and praise that await him there?
His name will be lost and his grave forgot,
If the tears of his country preserve them not! - -
- ↑ This poem appears in The Improvisatrice and Other Poems (1824)
