To reign with thee on high.
—Bethune.
RUGBY CHAPEL.
NOVEMBER, 1857.
Coldly, sadly descends
The autumn evening. The field
Strewn with its dark yellow drifts
Of withered leaves, and the elms,
Fade into dimness apace,
Silent; hardly a shout
To reign with thee on high.
—Bethune.
NOVEMBER, 1857.
Coldly, sadly descends
The autumn evening. The field
Strewn with its dark yellow drifts
Of withered leaves, and the elms,
Fade into dimness apace,
Silent; hardly a shout