consecrates, the preciousness of that which lives but in memory and echo and dreams, move the purest spirit of poesy to sweep the perfect minstrel lute. To such a poet as Robert Bridges "My song be like an air!"the note of evanescence is indeed the note of charm, and in choosing the symbols of it for the imagery of his most ravishing song,[1] he knows that thus, and thus most surely, it shall haunt us with its immortality:—
"I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents—
A honeymoon delight—
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour:—
My song be like a flower!
"I have loved airs that die
Before their charm is writ
Upon a liquid sky
Trembling to welcome it.
Notes that, with pulse of fire,
Proclaim the spirit's desire,
Then die and are nowhere:—
My song be like an air!
"Die, song, die like a breath
And wither as a bloom:
Fear not a flowery death,
Dread not an airy tomb!
Fly with delight, fly hence!
'T was thine love's tender sense
To feast, now on thy bier
Beauty shall shed a tear."
- ↑ Poems by Robert Bridges. Oxford, 1884.
