Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Literary Souvenir, 1828/Love Tormenting the Soul
II.—Title to face Frontispiece: Love Tormenting the
Soul. Engraved by William Greatbatch and
John Lewis; from a Painting by John Wood
Painted by J. WoodEngraved by W. Greatbatch & J. Lewis |
LOVE TORMENTING THE SOUL *[1]
I.
Young tyrant, and young torturer!
Young Love! how can it be,
That such extremes and opposites
Should meet and mix in thee?
II.
Thou of the rainbow wing! whose reign
Is as the colours there,
If thou hadst such delight in pain,
Thou could'st not be so fair.
III.
I looked upon thy morning cheek,
Thy lip with ruby dyed,
And then I blamed thy painted task,
And said thou wert belied.
IV.
Methought I would go forth awhile,
And track thy steps of flame,
Henceforth my young lute should be vowed
To vindicate thy name.
V.
I paused beside a convent grate,
I heard a mournful tone,
The maiden's cheek was very pale,
Her eye's blue light was gone;
VI.
For tears had washed the rose and light
Away from cheek and eye;
She knelt before the crucifix,
And only prayed to die.
VII.
The maiden's tale was quickly told—
Of love that could forsake,
Of a fond heart that beat too true,
And then could only break.
VIII.
I saw a young knight spur his steed
Amid the thickest fight;
It was not for the warrior's meed,
Nor for his country's right:
IX.
It was to seek forgetfulness,
Though from the sword or spear—
How could he think on one too false,
And, oh! yet still too dear.
X.
I stood next by a lovely one,
She looked the queen of all;
And every eye was turned to her,
Star of the festal hall!
XI.
But her dark eye had troubled light,
Such as the wild storms shed;
The beacon-sign of inward strife
Was that cheek's flushing red.
XII.
That proud heart had been given to one,
Who sought it not to win,
And now she only strove to hide
The burning wound within.
XIII.
Leant by a marble column near,
There stood a youthful bard,
And were praise all the poet asks,
He had won his reward.
XIV.
But oh! there was a dearer hope
Nurst in that gentle strain,
He turned to meet one worshipped eye,
He sought, and sought in vain.
XV.
The heavy dew came o'er his brow,
His flashing eye grew dim,
He felt the vanity of song,
And oh! I felt with him.
XVI.
For love and song have been the same
From early youth to me;
And withered feelings, blighted hope,
May tell what they can be.
XVII.
I am still young in time, but I
Have lived through wasting years
Of sleepless nights, of anxious days,
Of heart-burnings and tears.
XVIII.
'Tis a charmed destiny—tho' well
I know the wearying chain,
I cannot even wish to be
Free as I was again.
XIX.
I sought no longer a defence,
Flung down the useless shell;
Oh Love! this likeness is thine own,
The painter knows thee well.
L. E. L.
- ↑
* See the title-page.