A London Plane-Tree - And Other Verse

With a Biography by Richard Garnett

Amy Levy

• Éditeur: Ragged Hand
• Année: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781528791397
• Sujet: Literatura
• Sous-sujet: Poesía europea

"A London Plane-Tree - And Other Verse" is an 1889 collection of poetry by Amy Levy. Amy Judith Levy (1861–1889) was a British poet, novelist, and essayist. She was notably the first Jewish woman to study at Cambridge university, and she became well-known for her feminist positions as well as relationships with both male and female political and literature figures. Contents include: "A London Plane-Tree", "Love, Dreams, & Death", "Moods and Thoughts", and "Odds and Ends". Her other works include: "Xantippe and Other Verse" (1881), "The Romance of a Shop" (1888), "Reuben Sachs" (1888), and "Miss Meredith" (1889). As part of our poetry imprint "Ragged Hand" Read & Co. is proudly publishing this brand new collection of classic poetry complete with an introductory biography of the author by Richard Garnett.

MOODS AND THOUGHTS

THE OLD HOUSE

IN through the porch and up the silent stair;

Little is changed, I know so well the ways;—

Here, the dead came to meet me; it was there

The dream was dreamed in unforgotten days.

But who is this that hurries on before,

A flitting shade the brooding shades among?—

She turned,—I saw her face,—O God, it wore

The face I used to wear when I was young!

I thought my spirit and my heart were tamed

To deadness; dead the pangs that agonise.

The old grief springs to choke me,—I am shamed

Before that little ghost with eager eyes.

O turn away, let her not see, not know!

How should she bear it, how should understand?

O hasten down the stairway, haste and go,

And leave her dreaming in the silent land.

LOHENGRIN

BACK to the mystic shore beyond the main

The mystic craft has sped, and left no trace.

Ah, nevermore may she behold his face,

Nor touch his hand, nor hear his voice again!

With hidden front she crouches; all in vain

The proffered balm. A vessel nears the place;

They bring her young, lost brother; see her strain

The new-found nursling in a close embrace.

God, we have lost Thee with much questioning.

In vain we seek Thy trace by sea and land,

And in Thine empty fanes where no men sing.

What shall we do through all the weary days?

Thus wail we and lament. Our eyes we raise,

And, lo, our Brother with an outstretched hand!

ALMA MATER

A haunted town thou art to me.

—Andrew Lang

TO-DAY in Florence all the air
Is soft with spring, with sunlight fair;
In the tall street gay folks are met;
Duomo and Tower gleam overhead,
Like jewels in the city set,
Fair-hued and many-faceted.
Against the old grey stones are piled
February violets, pale and sweet,
Whose scent of earth in woodland wild
Is wafted up and down the street.
The city’s heart is glad; my own
Sits lightly on its bosom’s throne.

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