The Bridal of Salerno; A Romance in Six Cantos, with Other Poems by John Lodge Ellerton (9781150180057)
John Lodge Ellerton Release Date: 17 December 2009 Format: Paperback Pages: 122 Publisher: General Books ISBN: 9781150180057 ISBN-10: 1150180056
General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1845 Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: POEMS FOR MUSIC. PALE EVENING FALLS. Pale evening falls, the sun hath dropp'd beneath the west, And wearied Nature sinks to deep and solemn rest; At this dim, silent hour my thought to thee returns Who wert my earliest friend, whom yet my spirit mourns. Pale evening falls, the dews are gathering chill and fast, I think of that sad time when we two parted last: 'Twas at this very hour -- we never met again -- That I was left to mourn through long, long years of pain. REGRET THEE Regret thee Couldst thou only know, How oft my thoughts are fix'd on thee Mid sleepless nights, when hours creep slow, Thine image still revisits me; I think upon the distant day, When first we met in joyous youth, When all seem'd bright in hope's pure ray, And being true, we deem'd all truth. And though on time's dark, ceaseless tide Those happy days are long since gone, Thine image seems identified With all the precious moments flown; When thou, on whom my heart was plac'd, Wert all of good to me was given, An emblem of the blissful past, An earnest of a future heaven. But soon, too soon, I learnt to rue The coldness of thy fickle heart; Too soon with bitter tears I knew That thou hadst play'd a treacherous part; That, like a bark whose anchor's cast Upon a shifting, perilous shore, All, all on which my hopes were plac'd, Had vanish'd to return no more. Still I regret thee, and forgive The cruel wrong -- thy broken faith -- My blighted hopes -- the pangs that live -- The desolation of my path: Though thou, inconstant couldst forget The vows thou once didst...