'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||
AGAIN.
Again I set an image on a throne,
And built it up a loftier lovelier shrine,
Where no rude blast of trouble might be blown,
And only seed of joy was ever sown;
And built it up a loftier lovelier shrine,
Where no rude blast of trouble might be blown,
And only seed of joy was ever sown;
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I made the tendrils of the ivy mine,
And let them sweetly round the columns twine,
Till all the statues looked like flowering stone,
And every buttress was a bloom divine.
And let them sweetly round the columns twine,
Till all the statues looked like flowering stone,
And every buttress was a bloom divine.
But, lo, the ivy strong and lusty grew,
Between the stone it thrust a hundred hands,
That crushed whate'er they grasped like iron bands;
Between the stone it thrust a hundred hands,
That crushed whate'er they grasped like iron bands;
While part from part it mercilessly drew,
And piece from piece it tore with mute demands,
Till shrine and image all it overthrew.
And piece from piece it tore with mute demands,
Till shrine and image all it overthrew.
'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||