108
poems.
FAME.
"For the most loved are they,
Of whom Fame speaks not, with her clarion voice,
In regal halls."Mrs. Hemans.
Of whom Fame speaks not, with her clarion voice,
In regal halls."Mrs. Hemans.
It is not with Fame's "clarion voice,"
Within the palace hall,
That we would wish the cherished name
Upon the ear to fall.
Her thrilling notes!—would love desire
That strain their worth to tell,
Whose names, like some sweet treasured dream.
Deep in our memory dwell?
Within the palace hall,
That we would wish the cherished name
Upon the ear to fall.
Her thrilling notes!—would love desire
That strain their worth to tell,
Whose names, like some sweet treasured dream.
Deep in our memory dwell?
We would not that the minstrel's hand
The laurel wreath should twine:
Purer and dearer gifts we bring
To grace affection's shrine:
For they, the tender and the true,
The loved of other days,
Claim from the hearts their friendship blest,
A sweeter meed of praise.
The laurel wreath should twine:
Purer and dearer gifts we bring
To grace affection's shrine:
For they, the tender and the true,
The loved of other days,
Claim from the hearts their friendship blest,
A sweeter meed of praise.
The cherished hope, the fervent prayer,
While here their footsteps tread,
And when life's varied strain is hushed,
The silent tear we shed.
Rich meed! Yet o'er the loved and blest,
Whose work on earth is done,
No tear of hopeless grief we shed,—
Their heavenly crown is won.
While here their footsteps tread,
And when life's varied strain is hushed,
The silent tear we shed.
Rich meed! Yet o'er the loved and blest,
Whose work on earth is done,
No tear of hopeless grief we shed,—
Their heavenly crown is won.
