Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834/"And I Too in Arcadia!"

by Felicia Hemans

For other versions of this work, see And I too in Arcadia.

The Court Magazine, 1834, Volume IV, Page 25

SUMMER SONGS BY MRS. HEMANS—No. VI.

"AND I TOO IN ARCADIA!"

A celebrated picture, by Poussin, representing a band of youths and maidens suddenly coming upon a tomb which bears the inscription "Et in Arcadia ego."

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They have wandered in their glee
With the butterfly and bee,
They have climbed o'er heathery swells,
They have wound thro' forest dells,
Mountain moss hath felt their tread,
Woodland streams their way have led;
Flowers in deepest Oread nooks,
Nurslings of the loneliest brooks,
Unto them have yielded up
Fragrant Bell and starry Cup;
Chaplets are on every brow,
What hath staid the wanderers now?
Lo! a grey and rustic tomb
Bowered amidst the rich wood gloom

Whence those words their stricken bosoms melt—

"I too, shepherds! in Arcadia dwelt!"

There is many a summer sound
That pale sepulchre around;
Thro' the shade young birds are glancing
Insect wings in sun-streaks dancing,
Glimpses of blue festal skies
Pouring in when soft winds rise;
Violets o'er the turf below
Shedding out their warmest glow;
Yet a spirit not its own,
O'er the greenwood now is thrown!
Something of an under note
Through its music seems to float,
Something of a stillness grey
Creeps across the laughing day,

Something from those old words felt—

"I too, shepherds, in Arcadia dwelt."

Was some gentle kindred maid
In that grave with dirges laid?
Some fair creature, with the tone
Of whose voice a joy is gone,
Leaving melody and mirth
Poorer on this altered Earth?
Is it thus? that so they stand,
Dropping flowers from every hand;
Flowers, and Lyres, and gathered store
Of red wild-fruit, prized no more?
No, from that bright band of morn
Not one link hath yet been torn;
'Tis the Shadow of the Tomb,
Falling thus o'er Summer's bloom,
O'er the flush of Love and Life,
Passing with a sudden strife:
'Tis the low, prophetic breath
Rising from the house of death,

Which thus whispers, those glad hearts to melt—

"I too, shepherds, in Arcadia dwelt."