File:The Cambridge book of poetry and song (1882) (14779950072).jpg

Identifier: cambridgebookofp00rog (find matches)
Title: The Cambridge book of poetry and song
Year: 1882 (1880s)
Authors: Rogé, Mme. Charlotte Fiske (Bates) 1838- ed. (from old catalog)
Subjects: English poetry American poetry
Publisher: New York, T. Y. Crowell & co
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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on the Rhine. Tell my brothers and companions, wlien they meet and crowd around.To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground.That we fought the battle bravely, and when the daywas done.Full many a corse lay ghastly pale beneath the setting sim;And, mid the dead and dying, were some grown old in wars. —The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars;And some v/ere young, and suddenly beheld lifes morn decline,—And one had come from Bingen, —fair Bingen on the Rhine. Tell my mother that her other son shall comfort her old age; For I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a cage. For my father was a soldier, and even as a child My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whateer they would, —but kept my fathers sword; And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine On the cottage wall at Bingen, — calm Bingen on the Rhine.
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THE RIDE OF COLLINS GRAVES. Page 399. OREILLY. 399 John Boyle OReilly. PEACE AXn PAIA\ Thk day and night are symbols ofcreation,And each has part in all that Godhas made:Tliere is no ill without its compen-sation.And life and death are only lightand shade.There never beat a heart so base andsordidBut felt at times a sympatheticglow; (ed, Tliere never lived a virtue unreward-Xor died a vice without its meed ofwoe. In this brief life despair should neverreach us;The sea looks wide because theshores are dim;The star that led the Magi still canteach usThe way to go if we but look to Him. And as we wade, the darkness clos-ing oer us,The lumgry waters surging to thechin.Our deeds will rise like stepping-stones before us —The good and bad — for we mayuse the sin. A sin of youth, atoned for and for-given,Takes on a virtue, if we choose tofind:When clouds across our onward pathare driven,We still may steer by its pale lightbehind.A sin forgotten is in part to pay for,A sin remembered is a

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