But lost the freedom of his throat,
And dulled his prairie wit,
Oh, modern singers, ye who vote
Our times for song unfit,
If kin, fame, critics, age, you quote
As fain to thwart and twit,
Just try to feel your wings, and float
Above the scornful kit:-
Oh, modern singers, ye who vote
Our times for song unfit!
Emily Pfeiffer.
COME, LOVE, ACROSS THE SUNLIT LAND.
(Rondel.)
Come, Love, across the sunlit land,
As blithe as dryad dancing free,
While time slips by like silvery sand
Within the glass of memory.
Ere Winter, in his reckless glee,
Blights all the bloom with ruthless hand,
Come, Love, across the sunlit land,
As blithe as dryad dancing free.
And all the years of life shall be
Like peaceful vales that wide expand
To meet a bright, untroubled sea
By radiant azure arches spanned;
Come, Love, across the sunlit land
As blithe as dryad dancing free.
Clinton Scollard.