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MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS
WHEN the young hand of Darnley locked in hers
The spousal pomp of flags and trumpeters,
Charles Tennyson Turner [1808–1879]
[JEAN FRANÇOIS MILLET, 1814-1875] NOT far from Paris, in fair Fontainebleau, A lovely memory-haunted hamlet lies,
Whose tender spell makes captive, and defies
Ah, Barbizon! With thorns, not laurels, crowned,
Barry Cornwall" 3413
RTRAIT OF MILTON
ION OF PARADISE LOST, 1688
hree distant ages born,
ss of thought surpassed;
he joined the former two.
John Dryden [1631-1700]
here the singers whose names are
music unheard of men,
es fade not of lips long breathless, he that shall weep not or change
1 with the blossom of snow-white
he world of the dead men hears? words on our lips were honey, s and our fathers' ears was sweet, of the land his songs made sunny, bright world where the glad ghosts
n and bride, and anguish and rest, inger than this more blest.
et sake that were filled and bright
with the fruit and the flower of his
st that heard, and their cares were
blest that have fostered his name so
By the living and dead lips blest that have loved his name, And clothed with their praise and crowned with their love for fame.
Ah, fair and fragrant his fame as flowers that close not,
That shrink not by day for heat or for cold by night, As a thought in the heart shall increase when the heart's self knows not,
Shall endure in our ears as a sound, in our eyes as a light; Shall wax with the years that wane and the seasons' chime, As a white rose thornless that grows in the garden of time.
The same year calls, and one goes hence with another,
And men sit sad that were glad for their sweet songs' sake; The same year beckons, and elder with younger brother Takes mutely the cup from his hand that we all shall take. They pass ere the leaves be past or the snows be come; And the birds are loud, but the lips that outsang them dumb.
Time takes them home that we loved, fair names and famous, To the soft long sleep, to the broad sweet bosom of death; But the flower of their souls he shall take not away to shame
Nor the lips lack song forever that now lack breath. For with us shall the music and perfume that die not dwell, Though the dead to our dead bid welcome, and we farewell. Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]
[LORD RAGLAN, 1788-1855]
Ан, not because our Soldier died before his field was won; Ah, not because life would not last till life's long task were
Wreathe one less leaf, grieve with less grief,-of all our hosts that led
Not last in work and worth approved, Lord Raglan lieth