I FAME, like a wayward girl, will still be соу To those who woo her with too slavish knees, But makes surrender to some thought less boy, And dotes the more upon a heart at ease; She is a Gipsy, - will not speak to those Who have not learnt to be content with out her ; A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper'd close, Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her ; A very Gipsy is she, Nilus-born, Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar ; Ye love-sick Bards ! repay her scorn for scorn ; Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are ! Make your best bow to her and bid adieu, Then, if she likes it, she will follow you. O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight, Shutting with careful fingers and benign, Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine : O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities ; Then save me, or the passed day will shine Upon my pillow, breeding many woes, Save me from curious conscience, that still lords Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oiléd wards, And seal the hushéd casket of my soul. 1819. 1848. II How fever'd is the man, who cannot look Upon his mortal days with temperate blood, Who vexes all the leaves of his life's book, And robs his fair name of its maiden hood; It is as if the rose should pluck herself, Or the ripe plum finger its misty bloom, As if a Naiad, like a meddling elf, Should darken her pure grot with muddy gloom : But the rose leaves herself upon the briar, For winds to kiss and grateful bee feed, And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire, The undisturbed lake has crystal space ; Why then should man, teasing the world for grace, Spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed ? 1819. 1818. BRIGHT STAR! WOULD I WERE STEADFAST AS THOU ART BRIGHT star! would I were steadfast as thou artNot in lone splendor hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shiores, Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the inountains and the moors to No-yet still steadfast, still unchange able, Pillow'l upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever- or else swoon to death. September, 1820. February, 1840. LANDOR LIST OF REFERENCES EDITIONS Works, 8 volumes, Chapman & Hall, London, 1874-76. Works, 10 vol. umes, edited by C. G. Crump, The Macmillan Co. Poems, Dialogues in Verse, and Epigrams, 2 volumes, edited by C. G. Crump, the Macmillan Co. Letters and other unpublished Writings, edited by S. Wheeler, London, 1897. Letters, Private and Public, edited by S. Wheeler, London, 1899. Selections from Landor, edited by Sidney Colvin (Golden Treasury Series). BIOGRAPHY * FORSTER (John), W. S. Landor: A Biography, 2 volumes, 1869; also (abridged) as Vol. I. of Works, 1874. * Colvin (Sidney), Landor (English Men of Letters Series). REMINISCENCES AND EARLY CRITICISM ROBINSON (II. C.), Diary, Vol. II, Chap. XII, etc. MITFORD (M. R.), Recollections of a Literary Life. BROWNING (Elizabeth Barrett), in Horne's New Spirit of the Age. EMERSON, Natural Iristory of Intellect. De QUINCEY, Masson's edition, Vol. XI. DUFFY (C. Gavan), Conversations with Carlyle. Hunt (Leigh), Lord Byron and his Contemporaries. Bless. INGTON (Marguerite), The Idler in Italy. MADDEN (R. R.), The Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of Blessington. See also the Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. LATER CRITICISM * BOYNTON (H. W.), Poetry of Landor, in the Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 90, page 126, July, 1902. * Colvin (Sidney), Preface to the volume of Selections in the Golden Treasury Series. * DOWDEX (Edward), Studies in Literature. EVANS (E. W.), A Study of Landor, HENLEY (W. E.), Views and Reviews. LEE (Vernon), Studies in Literary Psychology: The Rhetoric of Landor, in the Contemporary Review, Vol. 84, Page 856, 1903. LOWELL (J. R.), Latest Literary Essays and Addresses. OLIPIANT (Margaret), Victorian Age of English Literature. SAINTSBURY (George), Essays in English Literature, Second Series. Scudder (H. E.), Men and SCUDDER Letters: Landor as a Classic. * STEDMAN (E. C.), Victorian Poets. STEPHEN (Leslie), Hlours in a Library, Vol. II. * SWINBURNE, Miscellanies. * WOODBERRY (G. E.), Studies in Letters and Life. Brooks (S. W.), English Poets. DE VERE (Aubrey), Essays, chiefly on Poetry, Vol. II. DEVEY (J.), Comparative Estimate of Modern English Poets. Dixon (W. M.), English Poetry. DOWDEN (Edward), French Revolution and English Literature. NENCIONI (E.), Letteratura inglese: Colvin, Biografia di Landor. PAYNE (W. M.), Greater English Poets of the Nineteenth Century, 1907. SYMONS (A.), The Poetry of Landor; in the Atlantic, June, 1906. SYMONS (A.), The Romantic Movement in English Poetry, 1909. WHITING (L.), The Florence of Landor, 1905. TRIBUTES IN VERSE. ** WATSON (W.), Landor's Hellenics. JAPP (A. H.), Landor, in Stedman's Victorian Anthology. ** SWINBURNE, Poems and Ballads, First Series: In Memory of Walter Savage Landor. * SWINBURNE, Studies in Song: Song for the Centenary of Walter Savage Landor. BIBLIOGRAPHY WHEELER (S.), in Letters and Other Unpublished Writings of Landor. LANDOR SHELL. GEBIR Nor shield immense nor coat of massive mail, BOOK I But that upon their towering heads they bore THE INVASION. THE MEETING OF GEBIR Each a huge stone, refulgent as the stars. AND CHAROBA. THE LOVES OF TA- This told she Dalica, then cried aloud, MAR AND THE SEA-NYMPH. THE SEA- "If on your bosom laying down my head THE WRESTLING-MATCH. I sobb’d away the sorrows of a child, If I have always, and Heav'n knows I I SING the fates of Gebir. He had have, dwelt Next to a mother's held a nurse's name, Among those mountain-caverns which Succor this one distress, recall those retain days, His labors yet, vast halls and flowing. Love me, tho' 'twere because you lov'd wells, me then.” Nor have forgotten their old master's But whether confident in magic rites Or touched with sexual pride to stand Though sever'd from his people : here, implor'd, incensed Dalica smiled, then spake: “Away By meditating on prirjeval wrongs, those fears, He blew his battle-horn, at which uprose Though stronger than the strongest of Whole nations ; here, ten thousand of his kind, most might He falls ; on me devolve that charge ; He callid aloud; and soon Charoba saw he falls. His dark helın hover o'er the land of Rather than fly him, stoop thou to alNile. lure; What should the virgin do? should Nay, journey to his tents. A city stood royal knees Upon that coast, they say, by Sidad Bend suppliant? or defenceless hands built, Iground engage Whose father Gad built Gadir ; on this Men of gigantic force, gigantic arms? Perhaps he sees an ample room for war. For 'twas reported that nor sworú suf- Persuade him to restore the walls himficed, self name In honor of his ancestors, persuade espoused, and a queen!” sun “O Dalica!” the shuddering maid exclaim'd, “Could I encounter that fierce frightful man ? Could I speak ? no, nor sigh.” “And canst thou reign ?” Cried Dalica ; “ Yield empire or com ply.” Unfixed, though seeming fixed, her eyes downcast, The wonted buzz and bustle of the court From far through sculptured galleries met her ear; Then lifting up her head, the evening Pour'd a fresh splendor on her burnished throne : The fair Charoba, the young queen, com plied. But Gebir, when he heard of her ap proach, Laid by his orbed shield ; his vizor-helm, His buckler and his corslet he laid by, And bade that none attend him : at his side Two faithful dogs that urge the silent course, Shaggy, deep-chested, crouched; the crocodile, Crying, oft made them raise their flaccid Bending, he kissed her garment, and retired. He went, nor slumber'd in the sultry noon, When viands, couches, generous wines, persuade, And slumber most refreshes; nor at night, When heavy dews are laden with disease; And blindness waits not there for linger ing age. Ere morning dawn'd behind him, he arrived At those rich meadows where young Tamar fed The royal flocks entrusted to his care. * Now," said he to himself,“ will I repose At least this burthen on a brother's breast," His brother stood before him:he, amazed, Rear'd suddenly his head, and thus began. “ Is it thou, brother! Tamar, is it thou ! Why, standing on the valley's utmost verge, Lookest thou on that dull and dreary shore Where beyond sight Nile blackens all the sand? And why that sadness? When I past our sheep The dew-drops were not shaken off the bar, Therefore if one be wanting, 'tis untold." “ Yes, one is wanting, nor is that untold," Said Tamar ; "and this dull and dreary shore Is neither dull nor dreary at all hours.” Whereon the tear stole silent down his cheek, Silent, but not by Gebir unobserv'd : Wondering he gazed awhile, and pitying spake. "Let me approach thee; does the morn ing light Scatter this wan suffusion o'er thy brow, This faint blue lustre under both thine eyes?" “O brother, is this pity or reproach ?" Cried Tamar, “ cruel if it be reproach, If pity, O how vain !” “Whate'er it be That grieves thee, I will pity, thou but speak, And I can tell thee, Tamar, pang for pang." “ Gebir! then more than brothers are we now ! Everything (take my hand) will I confess. I neither feed the Aock nor watch the fold; I was rejoiced to hear it, and contrived How to keep up contention : could I fail By pressing not too strongly, yet to press? “Whether a shepherd, as indeed you seem, Or whether of the hardier race you boast, I am not daunted ; no; I will engage.' “But first,” said she, “what wager will you lay?" "A sheep," I answerel: "add whate'or 66 you will." waves How can I, lost in love? But, Gebir, why That anger which has risen to your cheek? Can other men ? could you? what, no reply! And still more anger, and still worse conceal'd! Are these your promises ? your pity this?" * Tamar, I well may pity what I feelMark me aright-I feel for thee proceedRelate me all." "Then will I all relate," Said the young shepherd, gladden'd from his heart. “ 'Twas evening, though not sunset, and the tide Level with these green meadows, seem'd yet higher : 'Twas pleasant; and I loosen'd from my neck The pipe you gave me, and began to play. O that I ne'er had learnt the tuneful art ! It always brings us enemies or love. Well, I was playing, when above the Some swimmer's head methought I saw ascend; I, sitting still, survey'd it, with my pipe Awkwardly held before my lips half closed, Gebir ! it was a Nymph! a Nymph divine ! I cannot wait describing how she came, How I was sitting, how she first assum'd The sailor ; of what happen'd there re mains Enough to say, and too much to forget. The sweet deceiver stepped upon this bank Before I was aware; for with surprise Moments fly rapid as with love itself. Stooping to tune afresh the hoarsen'd reed, I heard a rustling, and where that arose My glance first lighted on her nimble feet. Her feet resembled those long shells explored By him who to befriend his steed's dim sight Would blow the pungent powder in the eye. Her eyes too! O immortal Gods! her eyes Resembled—what could they resemble ? what Ever resemble those ? Even her attire Was not of wonted woof nor vulgar art: wave: “I can not,” she replied, “ make that return : Our hided vessels in their pitchy round Seldom, unless from rapine, hold a sheep, But I have sinuous shells of pearly liue Within, and they that lustre have im bibed In the sun's palace-porch, where when unyoked His chariot-wheel stands midway in the Shake one and it awakens, t'en apply Its polisht lips to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there. And I have others given me by the nymphs, of sweeter sound than any pipe you have; But we, by Neptune! for no pipe con tend, This time a sheep I win, a pipe the next." Now came she forward eager to engage, But first her dress, her bosom then sur vey'd, And heav'd it, doubting if she could deceive. Her bosom seem'd, inclos'd in haze like heav'n, To baffle touch, and rose forth unde fined : Above her knee she drew the robe suc cinct, Above her breast, and just below her |
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