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Poem by Amy Levy


To Sylvia


O love, lean thou thy cheek to mine,
And let the tears together flow--
Such was the song you sang to me
Once, long ago.

Such was the song you sang; and yet
(O be not wroth!) I scarcely knew
What sounds flowd forth; I only felt
That you were you.

I scarcely knew your hair was gold,
Nor of the heavens own blue your eyes.
Sylvia and song, divinely mixt,
Made Paradise.

These things I scarcely knew; to-day,
When love is lost and hope is fled,
The song you sang so long ago
Rings in my head.

Clear comes each note and true; to-day,
As in a picture I behold
Your turd-up chin, and small, sweet head
Misty with gold.

I see how your dear eyes grew deep,
How your lithe body thrilled and swayed,
And how were whiter than the keys
Your hands that played. . .

Ah, sweetest! cruel have you been,
And robbed my life of many things.
I will not chide; ere this I knew
That Love had wings.

Youve robbed my life of many things--
Of love and hope, of fame and powr.
So be it, sweet. You cannot steal
One golden hour.



Amy Levy


Amy Levy's other poems:
  1. On the Wye in May
  2. On the Threshold
  3. The Two Terrors
  4. The Old Poet
  5. To E.


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Alice Meynell To Sylvia ("Long life to thee, long virtue, long delight")

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