Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . Perhaps to him they Torches are,Who guide Nights Sovereigns drowsy Car,And him they may befriend so near,But us they neither Light, nor chear. Or else those little sparks of lightAre Nayls that tyre the Wheels of Night,Which to new stations still are they rowl or the gloomy Vault. Or Nayls that arm the Horses hoof,Which trampling ore the marble Roof,And striking Fire in the Air,We Mortals call a shooting Star. Thats all the Light we now what belching Vulcans those yield such a kin

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Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . Perhaps to him they Torches are,Who guide Nights Sovereigns drowsy Car,And him they may befriend so near,But us they neither Light, nor chear. Or else those little sparks of lightAre Nayls that tyre the Wheels of Night,Which to new stations still are they rowl or the gloomy Vault. Or Nayls that arm the Horses hoof,Which trampling ore the marble Roof,And striking Fire in the Air,We Mortals call a shooting Star. Thats all the Light we now what belching Vulcans those yield such a kind of LightAs adds more horror to the 33

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidcu3192401317, bookyear1922