Poem by Thomas Love Peacock

The Tomb of Love

By the mossy weed-flowered column,
Where the setting moonbeam's glance
Streams a radiance cold and solemn
On the haunts of old romance:
Know'st thou what those shafts betoken,
Scattered on that tablet lone,
Where the ivory bow lies broken
By the monumental stone?

When true knighthood's shield, neglected,
Mouldered in the empty hall;
When the charms that shield protected
Slept in death's eternal thrall;
When chivalric glory perished
Like the pageant of a dream,
Love in vain its memory cherished,
Fired in vain the minstrel's theme.

Falsehood to an elvish minion
Did the form of Love impart:
Cunning plumed its vampire pinion;
Avarice tipped its golden dart.
Love, the hideous phantom flying,
Hither came, no more to rove:
There his broken bow is Iying
On that stone the tomb of Love! 

1. The Lady, the Knight, and the Friar
2. Life's Uncertain Day
3. Quintetto
4. The Magic Bark
5. Lines on the Death of Julia

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