So unknown beside a pine-fringed lake away beyond the sea,
Half in gladness of remembrance, half in wakened childish glee
I stretch my hand in homage and kindredship to thee,
I greet thee this bright day
From three thousand miles away,
And to thy well earned laurels I'd add a sprig of bay
Glad to know thou'rt rhyming yet,
For thy readers can't forget
Erin's genial loving son,
Poet of the steadfast North kindly David Herbison
DEATH OF D'ARCY McGEE
He stood up in the house to speak,
With calm unruffled brow,
And never were his burning words
More eloquent than now
Fresh from the greatest victory
That mortal man can win
The triumph against fearful odds.
Over besetting sin
'Twas this gave to his eloquence
That thrilling trumpet tone
Moving all hearts with those bright thoughts
Vibrating through his own
Thoughts strong, and wise, and statesmanlike,
Warm with the love of Right
That gave his wit its keenest edge,
His words their greatest might
He little thought his last speech closed,
That his career was o'er,
That those who hung upon his words
Should hear his voice no more.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57