Poetical Fragments from Ethel Churchill Volume III/Too Late

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

For works with similar titles, see Too Late.

TOO LATE

CHAPTER XXIV.

A SCENE AT THE MASQUERADE.

I do not say, bequeath unto my soul
    Thy memory, I rather ask forgetting;
Withdraw, I pray, from me thy strong control;
    Though, that withdrawn, what has life worth regretting?
Alas! this is a miserable earth!
    Too late, or else too soon, the heart-beat quickens:
Hope finds too late its light was nothing worth,
    And round a dark and final vapour thickens.

MEMORY (EXTRACT)

From Three Extracts from the Diary of a Week – Memory in The New Monthly Magazine, 1837 (Vol 49)

As this poem is already in Blanchard’s Life and Literary Remains, he omits this separate extract