Flower o' the thorn A book of wayside verse: By John Payne |
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ABRANYI.
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Flower o' the thorn | ||
143
ABRANYI.
MAGYAR IRALYU SZONATA.
WHAT strain of far fantastic strife o'errides,Abranyi, this thy high heroic tale,
What drone of age-old dreams of joy and ail,
By Orient oceans dreamed and streamlet-sides?
As in the shell a mystic murmur bides
(The poets fable) and a voice of wail,
Echo of its mother-ocean's surge and swale,
So in the stresses of thy song the tides
Of tune of ancient India swell and break,
Melodious memories of her sun-steeped plains
And passes, with nostalgic hearts and ears,
O'er range and river, land and sea and lake,
To our cold Europe of the snows and rains
Borne by the exiles of eight hundred years.
Flower o' the thorn | ||