[7] 1833.
At noon she slumbered. All along
The silvery field, the large leaves talked
With one another, as among
The spikèd maize in dreams she walked.
The lizard leapt: the sunlight played:
She heard the callow nestling lisp,
And brimful meadow-runnels crisp.
In the full-leavèd platan-shade.
In sleep she breathed in a lower tone,
Murmuring as at night and morn,
“Madonna! lo! I am all alone.
Love-forgotten and love-forlorn”.
[8] 1835. Most false: he was and was not there.
[9] 1833. The sick olive. So the text remained till 1850, when “one” was substituted.
[10] 1833.
From the bald rock the blinding light
Beat ever on the sunwhite wall.
[11] 1833.
“Madonna, leave me not all alone,
To die forgotten and live forlorn.”
[12] This stanza and the next not in 1833.
[13] 1833.
One dry cicala’s summer song
At night filled all the gallery.
Ever the low wave seemed to roll
Up to the coast: far on, alone
In the East, large Hesper overshone
The mourning gulf, and on her soul
Poured divine solace, or the rise
Of moonlight from the margin gleamed,
Volcano-like, afar, and streamed
On her white arm, and heavenward eyes.
Not all alone she made her moan,
Yet ever sang she, night and morn,
“Madonna! lo! I am all alone,
Love-forgotten and love-forlorn”.
Eleänore
First printed in 1833. When reprinted in 1842 the alterations noted were then made, and after that the text remained unchanged.
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