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Article THE GOLDEN WREATH. ← Page 2 of 2
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Golden Wreath.
And when Isandula ' s fateful fight Struck the nation with great dismay , He , like to a true chivalric knight , Offered his sword in the light of day , The heir of the greatest of England ' s foes , The son of a faithful and firm ally
, Was not ashamed , in his gratitude , To arm for her , and fight manfully . And the young Prince went to that distant land , No man in England should say him nay ; And the sorrowful mother he left behind , To plead for his safety , and watch and pray .
But the swarthy savage in ambush lay , And pierced him through with his dreadful dart , So . he died from the wounds of the asssegai , And with sorrow was smitten England ' s heart . They gave him a stately funeral , By English Princes his pall was borne ; The Queen , with her loving sympathy Consoled the mother , now so forlorn .
As the grand procession moved away , With mitre and cross , and pomp of war , All on that sunless summer day , With the thousands that came from near and far . With the clank and glitter of shining steel , Even the skies began to weep ;
We mourned for the mother , yet she could feel " He giveth his beloved sleep . " And the Queen we love , with her own fair hand , Laid a golden wreath on his bier that day ; " Poor boy , " she said , as she placed it there , " Here ' s a crown that no one shall take away . "
Mysterious are the ways of God , Nevermore cometh now songs nor laughter ; " What I do thou knowest not now ; " But thou shalt know , " saith He , " hereafter . " * Oh ! childless mother ; oh ! Empress fair
, Narrow the road , but the way is straight ; Thy son and thou shalt have crowns in heaven ; " All things come unto those that wait . "
EMHA HOIMES .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Golden Wreath.
And when Isandula ' s fateful fight Struck the nation with great dismay , He , like to a true chivalric knight , Offered his sword in the light of day , The heir of the greatest of England ' s foes , The son of a faithful and firm ally
, Was not ashamed , in his gratitude , To arm for her , and fight manfully . And the young Prince went to that distant land , No man in England should say him nay ; And the sorrowful mother he left behind , To plead for his safety , and watch and pray .
But the swarthy savage in ambush lay , And pierced him through with his dreadful dart , So . he died from the wounds of the asssegai , And with sorrow was smitten England ' s heart . They gave him a stately funeral , By English Princes his pall was borne ; The Queen , with her loving sympathy Consoled the mother , now so forlorn .
As the grand procession moved away , With mitre and cross , and pomp of war , All on that sunless summer day , With the thousands that came from near and far . With the clank and glitter of shining steel , Even the skies began to weep ;
We mourned for the mother , yet she could feel " He giveth his beloved sleep . " And the Queen we love , with her own fair hand , Laid a golden wreath on his bier that day ; " Poor boy , " she said , as she placed it there , " Here ' s a crown that no one shall take away . "
Mysterious are the ways of God , Nevermore cometh now songs nor laughter ; " What I do thou knowest not now ; " But thou shalt know , " saith He , " hereafter . " * Oh ! childless mother ; oh ! Empress fair
, Narrow the road , but the way is straight ; Thy son and thou shalt have crowns in heaven ; " All things come unto those that wait . "
EMHA HOIMES .