FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44  
45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   >>   >|  
thy fate,-- Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn: 'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 'Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. 'One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he: 'The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne:-- Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.' THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God. _Mitford's Text._ * * * * * WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY. 30. _To R. T. H. B._ Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. 31. _I. M._ _Margaritae Sorori_ _(1886)_ A late lark twitters from the quiet skies; And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, grey city An influence luminous and serene, A shining peace. The smoke
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44  
45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

WILLIAM

 

ERNEST

 

Father

 

Mitford

 
HENLEY
 

content

 

covers

 

repose

 

friend

 

serene


farther
 

shining

 
merits
 
trembling
 

influence

 

disclose

 
frailties
 

luminous

 
Lingers
 
twitters

unafraid

 

Horror

 

menace

 

matters

 
charged
 
punishments
 

scroll

 

master

 

Margaritae

 

Sorori


strait

 
clutch
 

winced

 

circumstance

 

unconquerable

 
captain
 

unbowed

 

Beyond

 
bloody
 

bludgeonings


chance

 

smiling

 

fancies

 
wayward
 

noontide

 

length

 

stretch

 

babbles

 

hopeless

 

drooping