Frances Anne Kemble Poems

A maiden meek, with solemn, steadfast eyes,
Full of eternal constancy and faith,
And smiling lips, through whose soft portal sighs
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Away, away! bear me away, away,
Into the boundless void, thou mighty wind!
That rushest on thy midnight way,
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Two angels have them in eternal keeping.
He that beside the deep vaults of the past
Stands to receive the treasures, that with weeping
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I planted in my heart one seed of love,
Water'd with tears and watch'd with sleepless care.
It grew—and when I look'd that it should prove
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Were they but dreams? Upon the darkening world
Evening comes down, the wings of fire are furled,
On which the day soared to the sunny west:
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They who go down to the relentless deep,
After long horrible death of cold and drought
Ere the last spark of flickering life goes out,
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Flower of the mountain! by the wanderer's hand
Robbed of thy beauty's short-lived sunny day;
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Poor little sprite! in that dark, narrow cell
Caged by the law of man's resistless might!
With thy sweet, liquid notes, by some strong spell,
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With these two kisses on thine eyes
I melt thy sleep away—arise!
For look, my love, Phœbus his golden hand
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Farewell awhile, beautiful Italy!
My lonely bark is launched upon the sea
That clasps thy shore, and the soft evening gale
...