Thomas Love Peacock

(1785 - 1866 / England)

The Tomb Of Love - Poem by Thomas Love Peacock

By the mossy weed-flowered column,
Where the setting moonbeam's glance
Streams a radiance cold and solemn
On the haunts of old romance:
Know'st thou what those shafts betoken,
Scattered on that tablet lone,
Where the ivory bow lies broken
By the monumental stone?

When true knighthood's shield, neglected,
Mouldered in the empty hall;
When the charms that shield protected
Slept in death's eternal thrall;
When chivalric glory perished
Like the pageant of a dream,
Love in vain its memory cherished,
Fired in vain the minstrel's theme.

Falsehood to an elvish minion
Did the form of Love impart:
Cunning plumed its vampire pinion;
Avarice tipped its golden dart.
Love, the hideous phantom flying,
Hither came, no more to rove:
There his broken bow is Iying
On that stone the tomb of Love!


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Read poems about / on: romance, memory, dream, death, love, fire, flower, sleep



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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