A Lovers Litanies and Other Poems

’ P UB LI S H ER S N O TE . ' Th e great popu la rily of E ric Al ackay s Love Leifers of a Violinist lz as given rise 10 a demand fo r a select a nd a tlractive ‘ ‘ eclz /ion lz is ot/zer oez ica l w k H c l/ze ublica z ion o ilz e of p or s. en e p f ’ resenl v u m wh ch c u d ma new c not lo be onna f ol e , i in l es ny lyri s f a ol/z er c ct io et/zer w t/z !b e f t ub/islzed orti ' a it in ny olle ion , g i irs p p C O N T E N T S . P A GE ' A Lo vE R s LITA N I E s — FI R ST LITANY VI RG O DULCI S —V X A MOR Is S ECOND LITANY O . — THI R D LITANY A D T E CLAMAVI — FOUR TH LITANY G R ATIA p LE N A — FIFT H LITANY S ALV E R EG INA — E E S IXTH LITANY B N DICTA TU . — S E V E NTH LITANY S TE LLA MATUTINA — E I G HTH LITANY DOMINA EXAUDI — N INTH LITANY LILIUM INTER S PINA S — T E NTH LITANY GLOR IA I N EXC E LS IS G LADYS T H E S INGER CANTO FIR S T CANTO S E COND MI SC E LLAN E OUS POE MS ANTER OS O DE T O T H E R I S ING S U N T H E WA K ING OF T H E LAR K A BALLAD OF K I SS E S \Y MA R Y A R DE . T H E LADY OF T H E MA Y \ i Contents . P AGE ZU LA LI E B E E THOV E N A T T H E PIANO A PR AY E R FOR LI G HT MI R AGE A S ONG OF S E R VITUD E S YLVIA IN T H E W E S T ‘ ’ E LIANOR E T H E S TATU E PABLO D E S A R A S A T E P R O PAT R IA T H E LITTLE GR AV E A DI R GE DAI S I E S O U T A T S E A S ONN E TS E S S I . C TA Y S S II . VI ION T H E S III . DAI Y R IV . P OBATION E V . DANT E E 2 2 2 VI . DIFFID NC F R E S VII . AI I S R E VIII . PI IT LOV I X F E R TWO S . A T DAY . BYR ON ’ XI E S . LOV AMBITION ’ XI I E S EFE . LOV D AT A E XIII . THUND R S TOR M NIG HT X IV I N S . TU CANY V A X . H E R O XVI R E R S E . MO o d n ”p C on tents. T H E MI S S ION OF T H E BA R D D E ATH TO ON E I LOV E E X E E R T N B A . VICTOR HUG O CYNTHIA PHILOM E L T H E S ONN E T K IN G TOK E N FLOW E RS A V E TE R AN PO E T A PR AYER FOR E N GLAN D f i rs t ib i t a ng. VI R GO D UL C I S . O T H O U refulgen t e s se nce of all grace O th ou th at w ith the witche ry o f thy face m o f nt H ast ade m e thy serva unto death , I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath , And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeed M y Venturous wooing, and the wanton speed I so ul With which greet thee, dear and tender o u o f - From t th e fulness my passion creed . I A M so truly thin e that n evermore S S hall man be found , this side th e tygian shore , S O I m eek as , so patient under blam e, And yet, w ithal , so minded to proclaim H is lifelong ardou r. For my theme i s j ust A heart enslaved , a sm ile , a broken tru st , A soft mirage , a glimpse Of fai ryland , th e An d then wreck thereof in tears and dust . ‘ ifll 5t l itany. O TH U wast not made for murder, ye t a glance Ma y murderous prove and beauty may entrance , M ’ ’ ore than a siren s o r a serpent s eye . And there are moments when a smothered S igh May h in t at comfort and a murmured N O “ ” ’ G o f M ive signs Yes , and isery s overflow M w e ake tears more precious than care to tell , o ne o ne we . Though , by , our hopes must forego I S H O U LD have shunned thee as a man may shun I S H is evil hour. hould have curst the sun That made the day so bright and earth S O fair When first we met, delirium through th e air Burning l ike fire I sho uld have curst th e moon - And all the stars that , dream like , in a swoon S o ut — hut the day, the loved , the lovely day That came too late and left us all too soon . I LOO K ED at thee , and lo from face to feet , I I saw my tyrant , and felt th e beat Of my qu ick pulse . I knew thee for a queen And bowed submissive and the smile serene Of thy sweet face revealed the soul Of thee . Fo r I was wounded as a man may be Whom E ros tricks with words h e will n ot prove And all my peace o f m ind went o ut from me . 1 wirgo E ulcis . 3 o f O H , why d idst cheer me with th e thought bliss , And wouldst not pay me back my luckless kiss ? I sough t thy side . I gave thee o fmy store One wild salute . A flame was at the core Of that first kiss and on my mouth I feel s The glow thereof, the pressu re and the eal , As if thy nature , when the deed was done , - Had leapt to mine in lightning like appeal . I F debts were paid in full I m igh t require M I ore than my kiss . might, in time , asp re - T o re . some new bond , or enact the first ’ k no w s t I For once , thou , th e love for which thirst , fo r I The love which hungered in thy sigh t, I Was not withheld . deemed th ee, day and n ight , M o wn ine true mate , and sent thee token flowers ’ T O figure forth the hopes I d fain indite . VI I I . IS no t ? C this so anst thou defend , in truth , o f The sunlike smile with which , in flush youth , — S O Thou didst accept my greeting, th ough late , My love -lorn homage when the voice o f Fate Fell from thy lips, and made me twice a man - Because half thine , in that betrothal plan V ’ V h e re o f I w spake , not knowing how t ould be When May had marred the prospects it began ? 1 4 f irst l itany! . C S T A N thou deny that , early in the spring, When daisies drooped , and bi rds were fain to sing We met, and talked , and walked , and were conten t In sunlit paths ? An hour and more we spent ’ In K eats s Grove . We l ingered near the stem Of th at lone tree on which was seen the gem Of h i s brigh t name , there carven by h imself ; ’ And I then stooped and kissed thy garment s hem . I - I G E . AV thee all my life gave thee there , In C ’ that wild hour, the great reator s share Of m ine existence and I turned to thee As men to idol s , madly on my knee And then , uplifted by th ose arms of th ine , I w sat beside thee , armed w ith other wine Than vintage balm and , mindful Of thy blush , I guessed a though t wh ich words will n ot define . I TOLD thee stories of th e days Ofj oy was When earth young , and love without alloy Made all th ings glad and all the thoughts o f things . And l ike a man who wonders while he sings , no And knows t whence the power that in h im lies , I made a madrigal o fall my sighs And bade thee heed them and I j o ine d therewith I The t ex ts Of these my follies that prize . x lbtrgo D ulcis . 5 f I S PO K E o men , long dead , who wooed in vain — w And yet were happy, men hose tender pain w . Was fraught with fervour, as the n ight ith stars ’ - And then I spo k e .

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