Letitia Elizabeth Landon - The troubadour (1825)

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Oh, love is timid in its birth!
Watching her lightest look or stir,
As he but look'd and breathed with her.
Gay words were passing, but he leant
In silence; yet, one quick glance sent,—
His secret is no more his own,
When has woman her power not known?

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AY, screen thy favourite dove, fair child,
Ay, screen it if you may,—
Yet I misdoubt thy trembling hand
Will scare the hawk away.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Yet, wake again, I pray thee, wake;
My soul yet lives upon the chords —
My heart must breathe its wrongs, or break :
Yet can it find relief in words !

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Oh! love will last
When all that made it happiness is past,—
When all its hopes are as the glittering toys
Time present offers, time to come destroys,—

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Oh! why should woman ever love,
Trusting to one false star above;
And fling her little chance away
Of sunshine for its treacherous ray.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
The cold north wind which bows to earth
The lightness of the willow's birth
Bends not the mountain cedar trees;
Folding their branches from the breeze,
They stand as if they could defy
The utmost rage of storm and sky.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
During slumber's magic reign
Other times shall live again;

Letitia Elizabeth Landon
There is an indolence in grief
Which will not even seek relief.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon