. Lyrics from a library . The marshes spread in the autumnal sunTheir symphony of blended green and goldAs when he saw them, while the multifold Tide-heralds of the ocean race and run Vociferous landward, and the creek-banks dunFeel the cool gush of waters oer them rolled;Inlet and cove caressed are and consoled, And the parched meads have cooling solace won. Ofttimes from sweet communion with his peersIn that fair bourn beyond the dusk and dawnWhither he went, our eyes with griefbedimmed,(Ah, stern are the irrevocable years!)I dream that he is earthward backward drawnTo these lone marshes tha
. Lyrics from a library . The marshes spread in the autumnal sunTheir symphony of blended green and goldAs when he saw them, while the multifold Tide-heralds of the ocean race and run Vociferous landward, and the creek-banks dunFeel the cool gush of waters oer them rolled;Inlet and cove caressed are and consoled, And the parched meads have cooling solace won. Ofttimes from sweet communion with his peersIn that fair bourn beyond the dusk and dawnWhither he went, our eyes with griefbedimmed,(Ah, stern are the irrevocable years!)I dream that he is earthward backward drawnTo these lone marshes that he loved andhymned. L_ 40 A. PHILIP FBENEAU Now that the vesper-planets violet glowIs smothered in a welter of gray cloud,And all the winds that sweep the sky are loud,I mind me how, one white night long ago,Our earliest poet, valiant-souled Freneau,By the stern stress of years assailed andbowed, Fell by the way, and found a fatal shroudIn the benumbing silence of the snow! When the young nation shook with wars grimthroes,The smiting of his song was as a sword,The light of it was as a beacon flame;And though the drift of Times unpitying snowsUpon the mound that hides his dust be poured,It may not dim the glory of his name!
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