H. P. Lovecraft

THE COMPLETE POETRY of H. P. Lovecraft
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Laeta; a Lament

Written: February 1918

First Published in The Tryout, Vol. 4, No. 2 (February 1918), Pages 15–16

Respectfully dedicated to Rheinhart Kiciner, Esq., With compliments of the author

 How sad droop the willows by Zulal’s fair side,
 Where so lately I stray’d with my raven-hair’d bride:
 Ev’ry light-floating lily, each flow’r on the shore,
 Folds in sorrow since Laeta can see them no more!
 Oh, blest were the days when in childhood and hope
 With my Laeta I rov’d o’er the blossom-clad slope,
 Plucking white meadow-daisies and ferns by the stream,
 As we laugh’d at the ripples that twinkle and gleam.
 Not a bloom deck’d the mead that could rival in grace
 The dear innocent charms of my Laeta’s fair face;
 Not a thrush thrill’d the grove with a carol so choice
 As the silvery strains of my Laeta’s sweet voice.
 The shy Nymphs of the woodland, the fount and the plain,
 Strove to equal her beauty, but strove all in vain;
 Yet no envy they bore her, while fruitless they strove,
 For so pure was my Laeta, they could only love!
 When the warm breath of Auster play’d soft o’er the flow’rs,
 And young Zephyrus rustled the gay scented bow’rs,
 Ev’ry breeze seem’d to pause as it drew near the fair,
 Too much aw’d at her sweetness to tumble her (...)
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