Literary Gazette, 19th August, 1826, Pages 524-525
METRICAL FRAGMENTS.—No. I.
A young French Renegade told Chateaubriand he never
gallopped alone in the Desert without a sensation
amounting to rapture.
I would not dwell where palaces
Rise with their marble halls,
Though mirror bright and picture fair
Be on their tapestried walls.
Though for their gardens North and South
Alike have produce sent,
And songs of many a tuneful lute
Are with their fountains blent.
The purple couch has feverish sleep—
The carved roof dreary hour;
And gilded though they be, no chains
Are like the chains of power.
I would not dwell in the wild bark,
Cutting the wilder sea;
Why should I wish to gain a port?
None will have rest for me.
Weary, O! weary it is to gaze
For days on the blue main,
Round bounded but by the bright heaven
For which we pine in vain.
I would not dwell in Beauty's bower,
To bend me at her will;
All rosy as her fetters be,
Yet they are fetters still.
And maiden smile is vanishing—
'Tis well it should be so;
When her eye learns Love's deeper light,
What doth it learn but woe?
And Love's last smile for me has smiled,
And its last sigh has sighed;
Nor would I change its memory
For any Love beside.
I will not seek the battle-field—
The men I there should meet,
What have they done to me to make
Shedding their life-blood sweet?
