(AN ECHO FROM A LARGER LYRE.)
That was love that I had before
Years ago, when my heart was young;
Ev'ry smile was a gem you wore;
Ev'ry word was a sweet song sung.
You came--all my pulses burn'd and beat.
(O sweet wild throbs of an early day!)
You went--with the last dear sound of your feet
The light wax'd dim and the place grew grey.
And I us'd to pace with a stealthy tread
By a certain house which is under a hill;
A cottage stands near, wall'd white, roof'd red--
Tall trees grow thick--I can see it still!
How I us'd to watch with a hope that was fear
For the least swift glimpse of your gown's dear fold!
(You wore blue gowns in those days, my dear--
One light for summer, one dark for cold.)
Tears and verses I shed for you in show'rs;
I would have staked my soul for a kiss;
Tribute daily I brought you of flow'rs,
Rose, lily, your favourite eucharis.
There came a day we were doomed to part;
There's a queer, small gate at the foot of a slope:
We parted there--and I thought my heart
Had parted for ever from love and hope.
* * * *
Is it love that I have to-day?
Love, that bloom'd early, has it bloom'd late
For me, that, clothed in my spirit's grey,
Sit in the stillness and stare at Fate?
Song nor sonnet for you I've penned,
Nor passionate paced by your home's wide wall
I have brought you never a flow'r, my friend,
Never a tear for your sake let fall.
And yet--and yet--ah, who understands?
We men and women are complex things!
A hundred tunes Fate's inexorable hands
May play on the sensitive soul-strings.
Webs of strange patterns we weave (each owns)
From colour and sound; and like unto these,
Soul has its tones and its semitones,
Mind has its major and minor keys.
Your face (men pass it without a word)
It haunts my dreams like an odd, sweet strain;
When your name is spoken my soul is stirr'd
In its deepest depths with a dull, dim pain.
I paced, in the damp grey mist, last night
In the streets (an hour) to see you pass:
Yet I do not think that I love you--quite;
What's felt so finely 'twere coarse to class.
And yet--and yet--I scarce can tell why
(As I said, we are riddles and hard to read),
If the world went ill with you, and I
Could help with a hidden hand your need;
But, ere I could reach you where you lay,
Must strength and substance and honour spend;
Journey long journeys by night and day--
Somehow, I think I should come, my friend!
Intended as such or not, this is a meditation on how romantic feelings change over time—and a finely written one. For myself, I haven’t experienced the excruciating desire of adolescence since then and have no desire to revisit it. But this poem causes us to ask what love is. And what is it within marriage, for example, when over more than four decades, in my case, we go through all the changes that are part of aging. A feeling? A commitment? -GK
ONE: Congratulations being chosen as the Classic Poem Of The Day. The poetess had love when her heart was young, all was full of passion, but finally when she had to go to visit the sick old friend, that was hard to do, e.g. long journeys by night and day to spend, and the strength, substance and honor, but at last she decided to come.
I cite here one more stanza, the final, I regard all are most beautifully thought and worded: But, ere I could reach you where you lay, Must strength and substance and honour spend; Journey long journeys by night and day- Somehow, I think I should come, my friend! True mesmerizing and she captured all loveliest. A most deserving CLASSIC Poem Of The Day, Hurray! Once again my CONGRATULATIONS for her family. God´s Blessings!
Fourteen stanzas long, all stanzas of the same beauty and best end rhymes, this lady shows much talent and much attention for the written word, enjoyed all stanzas and I have chosen one to cite here: And yet- and yet- I scarce can tell why (As I said, we are riddles and hard to read) , If the world went ill with you, and I Could help with a hidden hand your need; Truly enjoyed such talented gift of Amy Levy. CONGRATULATIONS for the family.
Love is the deepest emotion well in our life, The greatest contrasts between major and minor keys, Love beyond splendor and squalor, The grand orchestra we are attending, Great poem from the poet
'Soul has its tones and its semitones, Mind has its major and minor keys.' Classic poetry. A fitting choice for Poem of the Day! A fitting choice for Poem of the Day
hat was love that I had before Years ago, when my heart was young; Ev'ry smile was a gem you wore; Ev'ry word was a sweet song sung.... doomed to part. pain suffering separation. very fine poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a feeling of a 'Love that dare not speak its name.' and one wonders if there is a strain of surpressed homosexuality in the poem. Having said that it is such beautiful and heart rending piece that can be read on many levels with much hidden meaning.
I'd go further, Paul. It's bravely exposed imv. There would have been little doubt about what she was revealing in the circles she moved in, in those very constrained times.