. Works . an valleys dwell. THE LOTOS-EATERS. 49 Resting weary limbs at last on beds of , surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shoreThan labour in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar;Oh, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more. VOL. ir. !;o A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. I READ, before my eyelids dropt their shade, T/ie Legend of Good Women long ago Sung by the morning star of song, who madeHis music heard below; Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweetbreath Preluded those melodious bursts that fillThe spacious times of great Elizabeth
. Works . an valleys dwell. THE LOTOS-EATERS. 49 Resting weary limbs at last on beds of , surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shoreThan labour in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar;Oh, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more. VOL. ir. !;o A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. I READ, before my eyelids dropt their shade, T/ie Legend of Good Women long ago Sung by the morning star of song, who madeHis music heard below; Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweetbreath Preluded those melodious bursts that fillThe spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still. And, for a while, the knowledge of his artHeld me above the subject, as strong gales Hold swollen clouds from raining, tho my of those wild tales. Charged both mine eyes with tears. In everyland I saw, wherever light and anguish walking hand in hand The downward slope to death. A Fair Woman. A Dream of Fair by G. W. H. Ritchie. I. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. 51 Those far-renowned brides of ancient songPeopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong,And trumpets blown for wars; And clattering flints batterd with clanginghoofs; And I saw crowds in columnd sanctuaries;And forms that passd at windows and on roofs Of marble palaces; Corpses across the threshold; heroes tall Dislodging pinnacle and parapetUpon the tortoise creeping to the wall; Lances in ambush set; And high shrine-doors burst thro with heatedblasts That run before the fluttering tongues of fire;White surf wind-scatterd over sails and masts, And ever climbing higher; Squadrons and squares of men in brazen plates,Scaffolds, still sheets of water, divers woes. Ranges of glimmering vaults with iron grates,And hushd seraglios. 52 A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. So shape chased shape as swift as, when to landBluster the winds and tides the selfsame way, Crisp foam-flakes scud along the level sand,Torn from the fring
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidworksalf02te, bookyear1895
