Wilfrid Scawen Blunt Poems

Red, red gold, a kingdom's ransom, child,
To weave thy yellow hair she bade them spin.
At early dawn the gossamer spiders toiled,
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And what strange sights have these threewindows seen,
Mid bonnes and children, in the Tuileries!
What flights of hero, Emperor and Queen,
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How many hymns have I chaunted, Lady, in laud of thee,
Each with a sigh for its burthen, tear for its antiphon?
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The castle walls are full of eyes,
And not a mouse may creep unseen.
All the window slits are spies;
And the towers stand sentinel
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These were in truth brave days. From our high perch,
The box--seat of our travelling chariot, then
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Dear royal France! I fix the happy year
At forty--seven, because that Christmas--tide
There passed through Pau the Duke of Montpensier,
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Do you remember, Lucy,
How, in the days gone by
We spent a summer together,
A summer in Tuscany,
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Care killed a cat, and I have cares at home,
Which vex me nightly and disturb my bed.
The things I love have all grown wearisome;
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I will sit down awhile in dalliance
With my dead life, and dream that it is young.
My earliest memories have their home in France,
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Teach me, gentle Leporello,
Since you are so wise a fellow,
How your master I may win.
Leporello answers gaily
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