The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||
V
But eftersoon, beneath his feet,
He heard a sharp refrain of greet,
And then he thought the plaining tone
Was like his darling Esther's own,
The voice to him of sweetest sound
In all our fallen planet's round.
He heard a sharp refrain of greet,
And then he thought the plaining tone
Was like his darling Esther's own,
The voice to him of sweetest sound
In all our fallen planet's round.
He leaped below; he found her there
Begirt with many a link and snare,
So bound by that piratic crew
Whose blood besmirched the rearward blue.
He snapped her bonds like brittle glass,
Or tender withes of summer grass,
And might have bursted them the same,
No matter what their stuff and frame;
For wondrous wight was he in might
As any giant fame can cite,
Far huskier than men we raise
In these degenerate, mawkish days
When philanthropic frenzy saves
Unworthy types from clement graves,
And holds in mischievous subjection
The law of natural selection.
Begirt with many a link and snare,
So bound by that piratic crew
Whose blood besmirched the rearward blue.
He snapped her bonds like brittle glass,
Or tender withes of summer grass,
And might have bursted them the same,
No matter what their stuff and frame;
For wondrous wight was he in might
As any giant fame can cite,
Far huskier than men we raise
In these degenerate, mawkish days
When philanthropic frenzy saves
162
And holds in mischievous subjection
The law of natural selection.
The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||