Poem in the Style of Poe and Swinburne for Throwback Thursday #40

Photo by Austin Prock on Unsplash.

As I indicated in the title of this post, the poem below was written in the style of Algernon Charles Swinburne, specifically his poem “The Garden of Proserpine” (which you can read here). Obviously I’m emulating Poe here as well. Oh, and I wrote this poem over ten years ago.

I stood upon a cliff at dawning
Watched the strains of midnight die
The new freed light was sloping, fawning
Golden tendrils o’er the sky;
I stood there silent, watching, waiting
I stood encumbered, hesitating
While yet the mist, in drifts abating
Did about me softly lie.

I knew not why, for what I lingered
Still I stood, unseen, alone
Still unconsciously I fingered
In my mind a dream – my own –
A dream of one who did awaken
A longing that could not be shaken –
But this, my dream, was all forsaken
As I stood there, dim, alone.

But then – ah, then – I saw a figure
Standing on a cliff top bright
A faery-clad angelic figure
Silhouetted ‘gainst the light –
And hence I knew – my dreams did render
Existent in this spirit slender;
And her voice, resilient, tender
Came to me across the height.

I felt the earth around me reeling
As that voice resounded clear;
And I fell enraptured, kneeling
With a strange euphoric fear:
O, if I lost this vision newly
Enfleshed from out a distant Thule –
“O my love, if thou art, truly –
Come to me! I’m waiting here!”

This I shouted, desperate, calling
‘Cross the quiet lonesome sphere
To the cliff where she, enthralling,
Drew me from the sullen mere –
I waited – listened –frozen – silent
The universe was shrouded, silent
Til I was seized with passions violent –
“O my love, I’m waiting here!”

The echoes sounded through the valley
Rose to meet the rising dawn;
Silence then – a dreadful rally –
To my cry no answer drawn –
And thus my tears flowed, burning, numbing
I sank in an eternal numbing –
For I saw the sunrise coming
And I saw that she was – gone.

 

~H

 

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