Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1823.pdf/84

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Literary Gazette, 12th July 1823, Page 443



Lay by the harp, sing not that song,
    Though very sweet it be;
It is a song of other years,
    Unfit for thee and me.

Thy head is pillowed on my arm,
    Thy heart beats close to mine;
Methinks it were unjust to heaven,
    If we should now repine.

I must not weep, you must not sing
    That thrilling song again,—
I dare not think upon the time
    When last I heard that strain.

It was a silent summer eve:
    We stood by the hill side,
And we could see my ship afar
    Breasting the ocean tide.

Around us grew the graceful larch,
    A calm blue sky above,
Beneath were little cottages,
    The homes of peace and love.

Thy harp was by thee then, as now,
    One hand in mine was laid;
The other, wandering 'mid the chords,
    A soothing music made;

Just two or three sweet chords, that seemed
    An echo of thy tone,—
The cushat's song was on the wind
    And mingled with thine own.

I looked upon the vale beneath,
    I looked on thy sweet face,
I thought how dear, this voyage o'er,
    Would be my resting place.

We parted; but I kept thy kiss,—
    Thy last one,—and its sigh—
As safely as the stars are kept
    In yonder azure sky.

Again I stood by that hill side,
    And scarce I knew the place,
For fire, and blood, and death, had left
    On every thing their trace.

  1. This appears later in The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems (1835) The first verse here reads:

    Lay by the harp, sing not that song,
    Although so very sweet;
    It is a song of other years,
    For thee and me unmeet.