The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang Edited by Mrs. Lang |
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Midnight, January 25, 1886 |
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 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
82
Midnight, January 25, 1886
To-morrow is a year since Gordon died!
A year ago to-night, the desert still
Crouched on the spring, and panted for its fill
Of lust and blood. Their old art statesmen plied,
And paltered, and evaded, and denied;
Guiltless as yet, except for feeble will,
And craven heart, and calculated skill
In long delays, of their great homicide.
A year ago to-night, the desert still
Crouched on the spring, and panted for its fill
Of lust and blood. Their old art statesmen plied,
And paltered, and evaded, and denied;
Guiltless as yet, except for feeble will,
And craven heart, and calculated skill
In long delays, of their great homicide.
A year ago to-night 'twas not too late.
The thought comes through our mirth—again, again;
Methinks I hear the halting foot of fate
Approaching and approaching us; and then
Comes cackle of the House, and the debate!
Enough; he is forgotten amongst men.
The thought comes through our mirth—again, again;
Methinks I hear the halting foot of fate
Approaching and approaching us; and then
Comes cackle of the House, and the debate!
Enough; he is forgotten amongst men.
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |