Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
THE ROSE IN THE POET'S CHAMBER . [ It has always been my conviction that rhyme is as little essential to tho harmony and beauty of any kind of English verse , as it is to the Latin and Greek metres . In the follcroing poem I have attempted to carry out my opinion practically . —¦ Author . '} Rose . I sicken for the sunshine ,
For the pleasant breeze that woke me Early with caresses , lending Health and fresh odour : Oh ' . they were cruel hands that brought me To languish here . Poet The sunshine I can give thee
. , And the pleasant breeze , sweet floAver ; But never will it Avaft thee more Health or fresh odour . Yet they Avronged thee not , to pluck thee ; For all is man's .
Rose . Worlds were before your birth : There are floAvers ye never saAv , Ca \ es untrodden , realms unknown;—And all is yours ! Oh ! 'tis a cruel death I die By cruel hands .
Poet . But I Avill give thee fame ! And farther than the setting stars , And louder than the great sea Thy praise shall sound : Thousands Avould expire to-morrow For fame like thine !
Rose . Alas ! and AA'hat is fame ? A little gilding on a tomb ; Balm that fresheueth awhile A soulless corpse . They Avere cruel hands that brought me To languish here I
Poet . But thou hast healed my pain ; With thy radiant loveliness Bringing smiles unto a cheek , AVhere they were strangers : And I love thee ! child of Heaven , And grieve for thee . Rose If I have healed thy pain
. , And love tendeth my sepulchre , May thy songs be sAveet for ever , Lord of the lyre ' . I shall be content to die ,
Not vainly dying . BBVAIf YOREE , B . A .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
THE ROSE IN THE POET'S CHAMBER . [ It has always been my conviction that rhyme is as little essential to tho harmony and beauty of any kind of English verse , as it is to the Latin and Greek metres . In the follcroing poem I have attempted to carry out my opinion practically . —¦ Author . '} Rose . I sicken for the sunshine ,
For the pleasant breeze that woke me Early with caresses , lending Health and fresh odour : Oh ' . they were cruel hands that brought me To languish here . Poet The sunshine I can give thee
. , And the pleasant breeze , sweet floAver ; But never will it Avaft thee more Health or fresh odour . Yet they Avronged thee not , to pluck thee ; For all is man's .
Rose . Worlds were before your birth : There are floAvers ye never saAv , Ca \ es untrodden , realms unknown;—And all is yours ! Oh ! 'tis a cruel death I die By cruel hands .
Poet . But I Avill give thee fame ! And farther than the setting stars , And louder than the great sea Thy praise shall sound : Thousands Avould expire to-morrow For fame like thine !
Rose . Alas ! and AA'hat is fame ? A little gilding on a tomb ; Balm that fresheueth awhile A soulless corpse . They Avere cruel hands that brought me To languish here I
Poet . But thou hast healed my pain ; With thy radiant loveliness Bringing smiles unto a cheek , AVhere they were strangers : And I love thee ! child of Heaven , And grieve for thee . Rose If I have healed thy pain
. , And love tendeth my sepulchre , May thy songs be sAveet for ever , Lord of the lyre ' . I shall be content to die ,
Not vainly dying . BBVAIf YOREE , B . A .