Seatonian Poems By the Rev. J. M. Neale |
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V. | V. |
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XXI. |
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Seatonian Poems | ||
V.
Day comes again: but such a mornFrom Eastern clouds was never born,
As when, from Afric's torrid sand,
The desert-swarms, a monster band,
Came pouring o'er that cursed land,
That miserable race:
With eyes that sparkled living fire,
Monsters unknown and portents dire,
Came hurrying on apace.
Such visions, in the dead of night,
Crowd o'er the sick man's aching sight,
And, as he longs for morning light,
In feverish dreams have place.
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How many ways hast Thou to strike!
How many means to overthrow
And grind to dust Thy strongest foe!
Seatonian Poems | ||