The lion's cub | ||
104
ON NEARING THE SECOND CATARACT.
When I was young—ah, distant when—And just began to hold my pen,
My head obeyed my tardy hand,
Submissive to its least command;
But now that I have older grown,
And more of other authors known,
I understand how Milton wrote
With younger fingers than his own
The Fall of Man—the tragic note
That struggled through Samson's rugged lines,
Blind, like himself, among the Philistines.
The lion's cub | ||