Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander Edited, with a preface, by William Alexander |
1 | ![]() | II. |
9 | ![]() | III. |
7 |
1 |
1 |
![]() |
I. |
II. |
III. |
![]() | IV. |
![]() | V. |
![]() | VII. |
![]() | Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander | ![]() |
Oh ye of generous soul, and gentle blood,
Who love the annals of the great and good;
Who love to trace their memory on earth,
Who trod their destined course in silent worth;
Who, in this age of direful innovation,
Hold fast the principles of conservation;
Who reverence ancient customs, and revere
The usages your ancestors held dear:
To such, I fondly hope, not all in vain,
I dedicate my brief memorial strain.
You know to prize, and you will guard with care
The memoirs of a yellow damask
chair
.
But to you levelling miscreants, who hold
That nought is good and worthy that is old;
Who, in the spirit of this modern time,
Reform even virtue, till ye make it crime.
Who 'stead of flowered satin, would relax
On vile cane
chairs
, with small indented backs;
You who would scorn my antique form, and hear
My retrospections with unhallowed sneer;
Read not one line, away, away, and spare
The harrowed feelings of a high-backed
chair
.
Who love the annals of the great and good;
Who love to trace their memory on earth,
Who trod their destined course in silent worth;
Who, in this age of direful innovation,
Hold fast the principles of conservation;
Who reverence ancient customs, and revere
The usages your ancestors held dear:
To such, I fondly hope, not all in vain,
I dedicate my brief memorial strain.
131
The memoirs of a yellow damask
![previous hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_inprev.gif)
![next hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_innext.gif)
But to you levelling miscreants, who hold
That nought is good and worthy that is old;
Who, in the spirit of this modern time,
Reform even virtue, till ye make it crime.
Who 'stead of flowered satin, would relax
On vile cane
![previous hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_inprev.gif)
![next hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_innext.gif)
You who would scorn my antique form, and hear
My retrospections with unhallowed sneer;
Read not one line, away, away, and spare
The harrowed feelings of a high-backed
![previous hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_inprev.gif)
![next hit](https://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/icons/default/b_innext.gif)
![]() | Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander | ![]() |