Poems and Plays

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Robert Clarke, 1893 - 360 pages
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Page 29 - And all the shows o' the world, are frail and vain To weep a loss that turns their lights to shade. It is a woe 'too deep for tears' when all Is reft at once, when some surpassing Spirit, Whose light adorned the world around it, leaves Those who remain behind, not sobs or groans, The passionate tumult of a clinging hope, — But pale despair and cold tranquillity, Nature's vast frame, the web of human things, Birth and the grave, that are not as they were.
Page 39 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestick, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further!
Page 9 - For she was belle and wide-beloved, and I a youth unknown. The rich and great about her thronged, and sought on bended knee For love this gracious princess gave with all her heart to me. 'So like a startled fawn, before my longing eyes she stood, With all the freshness of a girl in flush of womanhood I trembled as I put my arm about her form divine, And stammered as, in awkward speech, I begged her to be mine.
Page 9 - HEARD the bob-white whistle in the dewy breath of morn; The bloom was on the alder and the tassel on the corn. I stood with beating heart beside the babbling Maco-chee, To see my love come down the glen to keep her tryst with me. I saw her pace, with quiet grace, the shaded path along, And pause to pluck a flower or hear the thrush's song. Denied by her proud father as a suitor to be seen, She came to me. with loving trust, my gracious little queen. Above my station, heaven knows, that gentle maiden...
Page 10 - Tis said that angels watch o'er men, commissioned from above ; My angel walked with me on earth, and gave to me her love. Ah ! dearest wife, my heart is stirred, my eyes are dim with tears — I think upon the loving faith of all these bygone years, For now we stand upon this spot, as in that dewy morn, With the bloom upon the alder and the tassel on the corn. DON PIATT. LAMENT OF THE VOL'NG HIGHLANDER SUMMONED FROM THIt SIDE OF HIť BRIDE BY THE " FIERY CROSS
Page 9 - THE BLOOM WAS ON THE ALDER AND THE TASSEL ON THE CORN. I heard the bob-white whistle in the dewy breath of morn ; The bloom was on the alder and the tassel on the corn. I stood with beating heart beside the babbling Mac-o-chee, To see my love come down the glen to keep her tryst with me I saw her pace, with quiet grace, the shaded path along, And pause to pluck a flower, or hear the thrush's song. Denied by her proud father as a suitor to be seen, She came to me with...
Page 10 - Tis sweet to hear the pattering rain that lulls a dim-lit dream ; 'Tis sweet to hear the song of birds, and sweet the rippling stream ; 'Tis sweet amid the mountain pines to hear the south wind sigh — More sweet than these and all besides was th
Page 92 - ... written by Col. Piatt and reads as follows : To thy dear memory, darling, and my own, I build in grief this monumental stone ; All that it tells of life in death is thine, All that it tells of death in life is mine ; For that which made thy pure spirit blest, In anguish deep has brought my soul unrest. You dying, live to find a life divine, I living, die till death shall make me thine.
Page 143 - Stella's unconscious motto became "ask not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.
Page 24 - The Candidate The politician, smooth and bland, Has many winning ways, And to and fro throughout the land He travels all his days. A modest man, of modest ends, He runs reluctantly; He's ever forced, by certain friends, A candidate to be. It injures much his business To be a public func; For oftentimes, while under stress, He getteth beastly drunk. He speaks a piece to every man, However low and rude; Much takes he from newspapers, and Much is a platitude. The beer to drink, the babes to kiss, He...

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