Southern garland . ;Our Perdita has gone with him. No more we dance the roundUpon the green in joyous play. Or wake the tabors sound. The sea coast of Bohemia Has many wonders seen,The shepherd lass wed with a king, The shepherd with a queen;But such a wonder as my love Was never seen is my joy and sorrow now To love her evermore. The sea coast of Bohemia Is haunted by a lightOf memory of ladys eyes, And fame of gallant knight;The princes seek its charmed strand. But, ah, it was our knellWhen oer the sea our Perdita Went with young Florizel I fl Rose The sea coast of Bohemia ^f RCflf
Southern garland . ;Our Perdita has gone with him. No more we dance the roundUpon the green in joyous play. Or wake the tabors sound. The sea coast of Bohemia Has many wonders seen,The shepherd lass wed with a king, The shepherd with a queen;But such a wonder as my love Was never seen is my joy and sorrow now To love her evermore. The sea coast of Bohemia Is haunted by a lightOf memory of ladys eyes, And fame of gallant knight;The princes seek its charmed strand. But, ah, it was our knellWhen oer the sea our Perdita Went with young Florizel I fl Rose The sea coast of Bohemia ^f RCflfCt. Is not my resting place. For with her waned from out the day A beauty and a grace :O had I kissed her on the lips I would no longer weep. But live by that until the day I fall to shade and sleep. ^ THE SIRENS. The sirens are singingSweeter than music of lute, Or harp of mortal stringing ;And the angels are mute. O desolate sadness! O notes elusive and vain !Ecstasy touched to madness: Deepness of yearning THE SYMBOL. B ROSC HUS pass the glories of the world ! ^^ KCflrCt. He lies beneath the palls white folds;His sword is sheathed, the flag is furled,Him silence holds. The pilgrim staff, the crown and sceptre of his pride. The simple flower from forest dell,Heap at his side. And add thereto the w^ild-heart voice of love and tw^ilight song : Those passioned strings, though he is mute,Remember long. And move not hence his evening sifted gains of calm and storm ; And bow before that dust-strewn nookAnd silent form. To-morrow^ hath no hope for clasp of friend, no grip of foe: Remember, love, with eyes tear-dim,We too must go ! STROLLING PLAYERS. Spangles and gold! O spangles and gold ! The hero slim and the baron bold. The budding charms of the virtuous maid, The dungeon keep and the forest glade. The broadsword fight and the stilted talk. The villains mask and the stagey walk. The mingled breath of sawdust and tan. The dewy morn
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidsoutherngarl, bookyear1904
