Favorite Poems by Famous Authors
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1891 edition. Excerpt: ... eyelids grew bright, When, after whole pages of sorrow and shame. She saw History write, With a pencil of light That illumed the whole volume, her Wellington's name! " Hail, Star of my Isle!" said the Spirit, all sparkling With beams such as break from her own dewy skies--"Through ages of sorrow, deserted and darkliug, I've watched for some glory like thine to arise. For, though Heroes I've numbered, unblest was their lot, And unhallowed they sleep in the cross-ways of Fame;--But oh! there is not One dishonoring blot On the wreath that encircles my Wellington'! name! run TIME x vu LOST IN woowo. 221, " Yet still the last crown of thy toils is remaining, The grandest, the purest, even thou hast yet known; Though proud was thy task, other nations unchaining, Far prouder to heal the deep wounds of thy own. At the foot of that throne for whose weal thou hast stood Go, plead for the land that first cradled thy fame--And, bright o'er the flood Of her tears and her blood, Let the rainbow of Hope be her Wellington's name!" THE TIME I'VE LOST IN WOOING. THE time I've lost in wooing, In watching and pursuing The light that lies In woman's eyes, Has been my heart's undoing. Though wisdom oft has sought me, I scorned the lore she brought me, My only books 1 Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me. Her smile when Beauty granted, I hung with gaze enchanted, Like him the Sprite, Whom maids by night 1 Oft meet in glen that's haunted. Like him, too, Beauty won me, But while her eyes were on me, Come, 'rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here. Conan, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, Though the...
- 189 x 246 x 4mm | 150g
- 13 Sep 2013
- United States
- black & white illustrations