LALEET
HOW beautiful she was, the little maiden,Scarce twelve years old,Who faded like a fading star, love laden,Her love untold.I knew not, I who far outran her days,How much I erredIn making much of her endearing ways,How much I stirredThe fount of her affection with my praise.No sunrise fairer is than was her face,No moonlit skiesMore lovely than the tenderness and graceThat filled her eyes.Her presence harmonized all dissonance,And ever woreA charm akin to music and romance,And faery lore.Poor child! among her hidden notes one saidShe dreamed of me,And fancied that she saw me lying dead,Drowned in the sea,But that no dream it was the tears she shed.When life's white rose its latest leaf was shedding,And o'er her brokeThe sobs of mourners in her chamber treading,Vaguely she spoke:He knew not of my weeping at his wedding!Those simple words, in whispered cadence spoken,All winds repeat;I shudder at the tale which they betoken,My lost Laleet!I hear them in the surging of the billow,Through storm and gloom;They pierce me from the rustle of the willowThat shades her tombAnd drops a denser shadow on my pillow.Ye softest harmonies of air and ocean,Of mount and vale,Rehearse, to love-led maids, her heart's devotionTill suns shall failAnd orphaned planets lose the joy of motion.
HOW beautiful she was, the little maiden,Scarce twelve years old,Who faded like a fading star, love laden,Her love untold.I knew not, I who far outran her days,How much I erredIn making much of her endearing ways,How much I stirredThe fount of her affection with my praise.No sunrise fairer is than was her face,No moonlit skiesMore lovely than the tenderness and graceThat filled her eyes.Her presence harmonized all dissonance,And ever woreA charm akin to music and romance,And faery lore.Poor child! among her hidden notes one saidShe dreamed of me,And fancied that she saw me lying dead,Drowned in the sea,But that no dream it was the tears she shed.When life's white rose its latest leaf was shedding,And o'er her brokeThe sobs of mourners in her chamber treading,Vaguely she spoke:He knew not of my weeping at his wedding!Those simple words, in whispered cadence spoken,All winds repeat;I shudder at the tale which they betoken,My lost Laleet!I hear them in the surging of the billow,Through storm and gloom;They pierce me from the rustle of the willowThat shades her tombAnd drops a denser shadow on my pillow.Ye softest harmonies of air and ocean,Of mount and vale,Rehearse, to love-led maids, her heart's devotionTill suns shall failAnd orphaned planets lose the joy of motion.
HOW beautiful she was, the little maiden,Scarce twelve years old,Who faded like a fading star, love laden,Her love untold.
HOW beautiful she was, the little maiden,
Scarce twelve years old,
Who faded like a fading star, love laden,
Her love untold.
I knew not, I who far outran her days,How much I erredIn making much of her endearing ways,How much I stirredThe fount of her affection with my praise.
I knew not, I who far outran her days,
How much I erred
In making much of her endearing ways,
How much I stirred
The fount of her affection with my praise.
No sunrise fairer is than was her face,No moonlit skiesMore lovely than the tenderness and graceThat filled her eyes.
No sunrise fairer is than was her face,
No moonlit skies
More lovely than the tenderness and grace
That filled her eyes.
Her presence harmonized all dissonance,And ever woreA charm akin to music and romance,And faery lore.
Her presence harmonized all dissonance,
And ever wore
A charm akin to music and romance,
And faery lore.
Poor child! among her hidden notes one saidShe dreamed of me,And fancied that she saw me lying dead,Drowned in the sea,But that no dream it was the tears she shed.
Poor child! among her hidden notes one said
She dreamed of me,
And fancied that she saw me lying dead,
Drowned in the sea,
But that no dream it was the tears she shed.
When life's white rose its latest leaf was shedding,And o'er her brokeThe sobs of mourners in her chamber treading,Vaguely she spoke:He knew not of my weeping at his wedding!
When life's white rose its latest leaf was shedding,
And o'er her broke
The sobs of mourners in her chamber treading,
Vaguely she spoke:
He knew not of my weeping at his wedding!
Those simple words, in whispered cadence spoken,All winds repeat;I shudder at the tale which they betoken,My lost Laleet!
Those simple words, in whispered cadence spoken,
All winds repeat;
I shudder at the tale which they betoken,
My lost Laleet!
I hear them in the surging of the billow,Through storm and gloom;They pierce me from the rustle of the willowThat shades her tombAnd drops a denser shadow on my pillow.
I hear them in the surging of the billow,
Through storm and gloom;
They pierce me from the rustle of the willow
That shades her tomb
And drops a denser shadow on my pillow.
Ye softest harmonies of air and ocean,Of mount and vale,Rehearse, to love-led maids, her heart's devotionTill suns shall failAnd orphaned planets lose the joy of motion.
Ye softest harmonies of air and ocean,
Of mount and vale,
Rehearse, to love-led maids, her heart's devotion
Till suns shall fail
And orphaned planets lose the joy of motion.