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A whisper from his dawn of life ? a breath
BEAUTIFUL CITY. BEAUTIFUL city, the centre and crater of European confusion, O you with your passionate shriek for the rights of an equal
humanity, How often your Re-volution has proven but E-volution Roll'd again back on itself in the tides of a civic insanity!
THE ROSES ON THE TERRACE.
Rose, on this terrace fifty years ago,
When I was in my June, you in your May,
And now that I am white, and you are gray,
Blooms in the Past, but close to me to-day
Glows in the blue of fifty miles away.
TO ONE WHO RAN DOWN THE ENGLISH.
You make our faults too gross, and thence maintain
Coming in the cold time,
“SUMMER is coming, summer is coming.
I know it, I know it, I know it.
Yes, my wild little Poet.
Sing the new year in under the blue.
Last year you sang it as gladly.
“Love again, song again, nest again, young again,”
Never a prophet so crazy!
See, there is hardly a daisy.
“ Here again, here, here, here, happy year r!”
O warble unchidden, unbidden ! Summer is coming, is coming, my dear,
And all the winters are hidden.
LIVE thy Life,
Young and old,
Then ; and then
All his leaves
Fall’n at length,
W. G. WARD.
FAREWELL, whose like on earth I shall not find,
Whose Faith and Work were bells of full accord, My friend, the most unworldly of mankind,
Most generous of all Ultramontanes, Ward, How subtle at tierce and quart of mind with mind,
How loyal in the following of thy Lord !
CROSSING THE BAR.
SUNSET and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
When I put out to sea,
Too full for sound and foam,
Turns again home.
And after that the dark !
When I embark ;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
When I have crost the bar.