Charles Tennyson Turner ( 4 of 4 )
The little bee returns with evening's gloom,
To join her comrades in the braided hive,
Where, housed read more
The little bee returns with evening's gloom,
To join her comrades in the braided hive,
Where, housed beside their might honey-comb,
They dream their polity shall long survive.
Hung on the shower that fronts the golden West,
The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes!
read more
Hung on the shower that fronts the golden West,
The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes!
In hues of ancient promise there imprest;
Frail in its date, eternal in its guise.
Oh! that the memories which survive us here
Were half so lovely as these wings of thine!
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Oh! that the memories which survive us here
Were half so lovely as these wings of thine!
Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
Now thou art gone.
How like the leper, with his own sad cry
Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls!
That lonely read more
How like the leper, with his own sad cry
Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls!
That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals,
To warn us from the place of jeopardy!
