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WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING
[First published 1849. Reprinted 1853, ’54, ’57.]
LAUGH, 1 my Friends, and without blame | |
| Lightly quit what lightly came: | |
| Rich to-morrow as to-day | |
| Spend as madly as you may. | |
| I, with little land to stir, | 5 |
| Am the exacter labourer. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, 2 | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| But my Youth reminds me—‘Thou | |
| Hast liv’d light as these live now: | 10 |
| As these are, thou too wert such: | |
| Much hast had, hast squander’d much.’ | |
| Fortune’s now less frequent heir, | |
| Ah! I husband what’s grown rare. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | 15 |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| Young, I said: ‘A face is gone | |
| If too hotly mus’d upon: | |
| And our best impressions are | |
| Those that do themselves repair.’ | 20 |
| Many a face I then let by, | |
| Ah! is faded utterly. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| Marguerite says: ‘As last year went, | 25 |
| So the coming year’ll be spent: | |
| Some day next year, I shall be, | |
| Entering heedless, kiss’d by thee.’ | |
| Ah! I hope—yet, once away, | |
| What may chain us, who can say? | 30 |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| Paint that lilac kerchief, bound | |
| Her soft face, her hair around: | |
| Tied under the archest chin | 35 |
| Mockery ever ambush’d in. | |
| Let the fluttering fringes streak | |
| All her pale, sweet-rounded cheek. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | 40 |
| |
| Paint that figure’s pliant grace | |
| As she towards me lean’d her face, | |
| Half refus’d and half resign’d, | |
| Murmuring, ‘Art thou still unkind?’ | |
| Many a broken promise then | 45 |
| Was new made—to break again. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| Paint those eyes, so blue, so kind, | |
| Eager tell-tales of her mind: | 50 |
| Paint, with their impetuous stress | |
| Of inquiring tenderness, | |
| Those frank eyes, where deep doth lie | |
| An angelic gravity. | |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | 55 |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
| |
| What, my Friends, these feeble lines | |
| Show, you say, my love declines? | |
| To paint ill as I have done, | |
| Proves forgetfulness begun? | 60 |
| Time’s gay minions, pleas’d you see, | |
| Time, your master, governs me. | |
| Pleas’d, you mock the fruitless cry | |
| ‘Quick, thy tablets, Memory!’ | |
| |
| Ah! too true. Time’s current strong | 65 |
| Leaves us true to nothing long. | |
| Yet, if little stays with man, | |
| Ah! retain we all we can! | |
| If the clear impression dies, | |
| Ah! the dim remembrance prize! | 70 |
| Ere the parting hour go by, | |
| Quick, thy tablets, Memory! | |
