Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Italy: Vols. XI–XIII. 1876–79.
The Sleeping Figure
By Bryan Waller Procter (17871874)U
A pale enchanted lady lies,
And o’er her many a frowning fold
Of crimson shades her closed eyes;
And shadowy creatures round her rise,
And ghosts of women masqued in woe,
And many a phantom pleasure flies,
And lovers slain—ah, long ago!
An age upon that couch hath lain,
Yet in one spot a spirit keeps
His mansion, like a red-rose stain;
And, when lovers’ ghosts complain,
Blushes like a new-born flower,
Or as some bright dream of pain
Dawneth through the darkest hour.
Since the time whereof I speak,—
Once, the sleeping lady bred
Beauty in her burning cheek,
And the lovely morn did break
Through the azure of her eyes,
And her heart was warm and meek,
And her hope was in the skies.
And the passion pained her soul,
And her hope away was cast
Far beyond her own control;
And the clouded thoughts that roll
Through the midnight of the mind
O’er her eyes of azure stole,
Till they grew deject and blind.
When May-music was in tune,
Dared forsake that amorous heaven,
Changed and careless soon!—
O, what is all beneath the moon
When his heart will answer not!
What are all the dreams of noon
With our love forgot!
Sorrow’s daughter, meek and lone,
Till some spirit downwards bent
And struck her to this sleep of stone.
Look! Did old Pygmalion
Sculpture thus, or more prevail,
When he drew the living tone
From the marble pale?