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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Properzia Rossi</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tell me no more, no more<br>Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain<br>To quench its haunting thirst for happiness?<br>Have I not lov'd, and striven, and fail'd to bind<br>One true heart unto me, whereon my own<br>Might find a resting-place, a home for all<br>Its burden of affections? I depart,<br>Unknown, tho' Fame goes with me; I must leave<br>The earth unknown. Yet it may be that death<br>Shall give my name a power to win such tears<br>As would have made life precious. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>ONE dream of passion and of beauty more!<br>And in its bright fulfillment let me pour <br>My soul away! Let earth retain a trace<br>Of that which lit my being, tho' its race<br>Might have been loftier far. Yet one more dream!<br>From my deep spirit one victorious gleam <br>Ere I depart! For thee alone, for thee!<br>May this last work, this farewell triumph be,<br>Thou, lov'd so vainly! I would leave enshrined<br>Something immortal of my heart and mind,<br>That yet may speak to thee when I am gone,<br>Shaking thine inmost bosom with a tone<br>Of lost affection; something that may prove<br>What she hath been, whose melancholy love<br>On thee was lavish'd; silent pang and tear,<br>And fervent song, that gush'd when none were near,<br>And dream by night, and weary thought by day,<br>Stealing the brightness from her life away,<br>While thou, Awake! not yet within me die,<br>Under the burden and the agony<br>Of this vain tenderness my spirit, wake!<br>Ev'n for thy sorrowful affection's sake,<br>Live! in thy work breathe out! that he may yet<br>Feeling sad mastery there, perchance regret<br>Thine unrequited gift. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>It comes, the power<br>Within me born, flows back; my fruitless dower<br>That could not win me love. Yet once again<br>I greet it proudly, with its rushing train<br>Of glorious images: they throng they press<br>A sudden joy lights up my loneliness,<br>I shall not perish all! <br>The bright work grows<br>Beneath my hand, unfolding, as a rose,<br>Leaf after leaf, to beauty; line by line,<br>I fix my thought, heart, soul, to burn, to shine,<br>Thro' the pale marble's veins. It grows and now<br>I give my own life's history to thy brow,<br>Forsaken Ariadne! thou shalt wear<br>My form, my lineaments; but oh! more fair,<br>Touched into lovelier being by the glow<br>Which in me dwells, as by the summer-light<br>All things are glorified. From thee my wo<br>Shall yet look beautiful to meet his sight, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I am pass'd away. Thou art the mould,<br>Wherein I pour the fervent thoughts, th' untold,<br>The self-consuming! Speak to him of me,<br>Thou, the deserted by the lonely sea,<br>With the soft sadness of thine earnest eye,<br>Speak to him, lorn one, deeply, mournfully,<br>Of all my love and grief! Oh! could I throw<br>Into thy frame a voice, a sweet, and low,<br>And thrilling voice of song! when he came nigh,<br>To send the passion of its melody<br>Thro' his pierced bosom on its tones to bear<br>My life's deep feeling as the southern air<br>Wafts the faint myrtle's breath, to rise, to swell,<br>To sink away in accents of farewell,<br>Winning but one, one gush of tears, whose flow<br>Surely my parted spirit yet might know,<br>If love be strong as death! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>Now fair thou art,<br>Thou form, whose life is of my burning heart!<br>Yet all the vision that within me wrought,<br>I cannot make thee! Oh! I might have given <br>Birth to creations of far nobler thought,<br>I might have kindled, with the fire of heaven,<br>Things not of such as die! But I have been<br>Too much alone; a heart, whereon to lean,<br>With all these deep affections that o'erflow<br>My aching soul, and find no shore below,<br>An eye to be my star; a voice to bring<br>Hope o'er my path like sounds that breathe of spring,<br>These are denied me dreamt of still in vain,<br>Therefore my brief aspirings from the chain,<br>Are ever but as some wild fitful song,<br>Rising triumphantly, to die ere long<br>In dirge-like echoes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV.<br>Yet the world will see<br>Little of this, my parting work, in thee,<br>Thou shalt have fame! Oh, mockery! give the reed<br>From storms a shelter, give the drooping vine<br>Something round which its tendrils may entwine,<br>Give the parch'd flower a rain-drop, and the meed<br>Of love's kind words to woman! Worthless fame!<br>That in his bosom wins not for my name<br>Th' abiding place it ask'd! Yet how my heart,<br>In its own fairy world of song and art,<br>Once beat for praise! Are those high longings o'er?<br>That which I have been can I be no more?<br>Never, oh! never more; tho' still thy sky<br>Be blue as then, my glorious Italy!<br>And tho' the music, whose rich breathings fill<br>Thine air with soul, be wandering past me still,<br>And tho' the mantle of thy sunlight streams<br>Unchang'd on forms instinct with poet-dreams; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Never, oh! never more! Where'er I move,<br>The shadow of this broken-hearted love<br>Is on me and around! Too well they know,<br>Whose life is all within, too soon and well,<br>When there the blight hath settled; but I go<br>Under the silent wings of Peace to dwell;<br>From the slow wasting, from the lonely pain,<br>The inward burning of those words 'in vain',<br>Sear'd on the heart I go. 'Twill soon be past,<br>Sunshine, and song, and bright Italian heaven,<br>And thou, oh! thou, on whom my spirit cast<br>Unvalued wealth, who know'st not what was given<br>In that devotedness, the sad, and deep,<br>And unrepaid farewell! If I could weep<br>Once, only once, belov'd one! on thy breast,<br>Pouring my heart forth ere I sink to rest!<br>But that were happiness, and unto me<br>Earth's gift is fame. Yet I was form'd to be<br>So richly bless'd! With thee to watch the sky,<br>Speaking not, feeling but that thou wert nigh:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With thee to listen, while the tones of song<br>Swept ev'n as part of our sweet air along,<br>To listen silently; with thee to gaze<br>On forms, the deified of olden days,<br>This had been joy enough; and hour by hour,<br>From its glad well-springs drinking life and power,<br>How had my spirit soar'd, and made its fame<br>A glory for thy brow! Dreams, dreams! the fire<br>Burns faint within me. Yet I leave my name?<br>As a deep thrill may linger on the lyre <br>When its full chords are hush'd?awhile to live,<br>And one day haply in thy heart revive<br>Sad thoughts of me: I leave it, with a sound,<br>A spell o'er memory, mournfully profound;<br>I leave it, on my country's air to dwell,<br>Say proudly yet?' <br>'Twas hers who lov'd me well!<br>'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391557" data-title="Properzia Rossi de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="Tell me no more, no more
Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain
To quench its haunting thirst for happiness?
Have I not lov'd, and striven, and fail'd to bind
One true heart unto me, whereon my own
Might find a resting-place, a home for all
I..."></div>
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