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48 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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JOHN FRANCIS ARMSTRONG (1841-1865)
ADIEU
I
HEAR a distant clarion blare, The smoldering battle flames anew; A noise of onset shakes the air — Dear woods and quiet vales, adieu!
Weird crag, where I was wont to gaze
On the far sea's aerial hue, Below a veil of glimmering haze
At morning's breezy prime—adieu 1
Clear runnel, bubbling under boughs Of odorous lime and darkling yew,
Where I have lain on banks of flowers And dreamed the livelong noon—adieu 1
And, ah ! ye lights and shades that ray Those orbs of brightest summer blue,
That haunted me by night and day For happy moons—adieu ! adieu ! |
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THE BLIND STUDENT
O
N Euripides' plays we debated, In College, one chill winter night; A student rose up, while we waited For more intellectual light. |
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