(Old French)Memories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, No more dumb;
Delicate phantoms softly creeping Softly back from the old-world come
Faintest odours around them straying, Suddenly straying In chambers dim;
Whispering s...
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nine, When Hawke came swooping from the West,
The French King's Admiral with twenty of the line, Was sailing forth to sack us, out of Brest
The ports of France were crowded, the quays of France
With th...
(After Martial)To-day, my friend is seventy-five; He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast yet,
His heart the
lightest heart alive
He sees behind him green and wide The pathway of his pilgrim years; He sees...
O Son of mine, when dusk shall find thee bending Between a gravestone and a cradle's head---Between the love whose name is loss unending And the young love whose thoughts are liker dread,---Thou too shalt groan at heart that all thy spending Canno...
Ye have robb’d,’ said he, ‘ye have slaughter’d and made an end, Take your ill-got plunder, and bury the dead:
What will ye more of your guest and sometime friend
’ ‘Blood for our blood,’ they said
He laugh’d: ‘If one may settle the ...
Mother, with unbowed head Hear thou across the sea The farewell of the dead, The dead who died for thee
Greet them again with tender words and grave,
For saving thee, themselves they could not save
To keep the house unharmed Their f...
Riding at dawn, riding alone, Gillespie left the town behind;
Before he turned by the Westward road A horseman crossed him, staggering blind
"The Devil's abroad in false Vellore, The Devil that stabs by night," he said,"Wo...
Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below
) Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,
An' dreamin' arl the time O' Plymouth Hoe
Yarnder lumes the Island, yarnder lie the ships,
The Squire sat propped in a pillowed chair,
His eyes were alive and clear of care,
But well he knew that the hour was
To bid good-bye to his ancient home
(from the French of Wenceslas,
Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384
)I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---Narcissus, who to end the pain he
Praise thou with praise unending, The Master of the Wine;
To all their portions sending Himself he mingled thine:
The sea-born flush of morning, The sea-born hush of night,
The East wind comfort scorning, And the North wind driving ...
Lover of England, stand awhile and
With thankful heart, and lips refrained from praise;
They rest beyond the speech of human
Who served with Nelson and with Nelson died