The Lovers’ Last Meeting (Mattie Griffith Browne Poems)
IT was a calm, still, Sabbath eve--no breezeWent o'er the sleeping flowers, no murmured sound,From Nature's harp of many voices, ...
IT was a calm, still, Sabbath eve--no breezeWent o'er the sleeping flowers, no murmured sound,From Nature's harp of many voices, ...
Oh! set the bridal feast aside, And bear the harp away; The coronach must sound instead, From solemn kirk-yard gray. I heard last eve, ...
Night softly sang, murmur of early grass and springtide rainsMingled its music with melancholy of her strains;On high the stars, ...
Though "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,"His noble soul looks down on the land he died to save,And ...
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