Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) from Flowers of Loveliness, 1838/The Marvel of Peru

2446152Flowers of Loveliness, 1838 — The Marvel of PeruLetitia Elizabeth Landon


MARVEL OF PERU

Artist K. MeadowsEngraved by J. Cochran


From the New Yorker, 8th September, 1838, page 389


THE MARVEL OF PERU.

A radiant beauty of the lovely South,
    As languid as her valley's scented gale;
The rose hath only place on that sweet mouth—
    A rose it is, but the soft cheek is pale.

Her large dark eyes are like a summer night,
    Before the moon's soft crescent shines above;
Filled with a tender, yet a shadowy light,
    Whose silence is the eloquence of Love.

She dwelleth like a lone and fairy flower,
    That hath its home in some enchanted soil;
What knoweth she of life's more troubled hour—
    Our northern lot of hurry, care and toil?

Half slave, half idol, she is kept apart;
    Her palace-prison is a veiled shrine;
Enough for her the sweet world of the heart;
    Ah! little hath the ladye to resign!

Listless she dreams the sultry noon away,
    The painted fan just stirs her raven hair;
The silken curtains yield a shadowy day,
    That makes the pale, fair beauty seem more fair.

Faint are the colours[1] in that darkened room;
    When the wind lifts the curtain's crimson fold,
Amid a rich obscurity of gloom
    Are seen the rainbow gems, the carved gold.

And on a table near, a little flower
    Droops in a vase as white as sculptured snow;
It was her favourite in her childhood's bower,
    The Marvel of Peru;—she loves it now.

The perfumed atmosphere around is filled
    With many odors—summer's scented spoil:
The fragrant waters from sweet woods distilled,
    Spices, and cinnamon, and precious oil.

Oh, life of pleasant languor and repose!
    Like some frail plant that languishes at noon;
The dark-eyed beauty need not envy those
    To whom such charmed lot were earth's best boon.

What is the world we live in but a strife
    Of vanity and envy, hate and fear?
That what we so miscall our social life
    Is one great error—sullen, vast and drear.

A happier lot is Woman’s thus confined
    To one deep love, and one sweet solitude;
Oh! what availeth to awake the mind,
    Whose higher struggles are so soon subdued?


  1. Landon's original spelling, colors in the American version