The Undying Splendour (John William Streets Poems)
I: ENGLANDThere lies an isle, a splendour of the seaHaunting as Babylon, illustrious as Rome:A race of Saxon freemen there ...
I: ENGLANDThere lies an isle, a splendour of the seaHaunting as Babylon, illustrious as Rome:A race of Saxon freemen there ...
Beneath a hawthorn bush, dying, he layUpon an orchard slope, a gentle hill;The silvery moonlight thro' the night did playUpon ...
Let music vast, triumphal, fill the world's great nave,Voicing the peerless theme of noble youthWho rose to Life's sublimest greatness ...
I hear thy voice in the lonely pinesWhen the winds arise in their unknown lair;In the rush of waves in ...
Showers of shrapnel, scream of deadly shells;And broken lie the belfry's prayerful bellsAmid the silent, ruined cloisters, whereLonely, mute on ...
Like memories born in a dream my Fancy around thee plays,Re-embodies the life, the beauty of olden daysThat were thine ...
NOW."Mother of England! why do you weep?""My heart's with the fate of my own dearest sonsFighting for Freedom against modern ...
Freemen of England! born upon an isleSteel-girt, inviolate, bred beneath a skyThat looketh down with a benignant smileUpon the ancient ...
Night on the plains, and the stars unfoldThe cycle of night in splendour old;The winds are hushed, on the fire-swept ...
Night broodeth o'er the solitude sereneAs some glad mother o'er her first-born child,Pouring her gladness on the shadowy sceneIn floods ...
He died for love of race: because the bloodOf Northern freeman swell'd his veins: aroseTrue to tradition that like mountain ...
Impressions are like winds; you feel their coolSwift kiss upon the brow, yet know not whereThey sprang to birth: so ...
I, too, have loved with you our mother Earth:Listen'd at pensive eve the lyric thrushShake out his ecstasy to lovely ...
Hushed is the shriek of hurtling shells: and hark!Somewhere within that bit of soft blue sky-Grand in his loneliness, his ...
Peace can be found in strife: artilleryAre belching forth this sweet, entrancing mornTheir projectiles of death: yet as in scorn,Lost ...
Reach out thy hands, thy spirit's hands to meAnd pluck the Youth, the magic from my heart-Magic of dreams whose ...
A lonely moorland stretching farBeneath the stars' eternal light;A sentry standing there aloneVigilant, peering thro' the night.A meteor shoots adown ...
No splendid show of solemn funeral rite,No stricken mourners following his bier,No peal of organ reaching thro' his night,Is rendered ...
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