Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
HISTORIC SONNETS . ( No . 7 . ) MAtUUS AT CARTHAGE . He wept—while rememb'ring what Rome had forgot , That his was the arm which had saved her . The spot
That was dew'd with the tears of the outcast , the lone , All the pride and the pomp ofhis glory had known . And who is he , that lonely man , With head down-bent in agon }' , As tho' his soul ' s sad memory ran , Searching 'mid scenes of dark ingratitude ? 'Tis Marius , seated on the ruin'd wall ,
Of what teas Carthage ' s most glorious hall : — Emblem and proof of man ' s incertitude , In his forlorn and wayward fate we see . " Ungrateful Rome ! " the wretched wanderer sigh'd , And , ' mid the relics of his fame , neglected , friendless died
( No . 8 . ) RUNNYMEDE . Who could forget the spirit-stirring clarion Of the fair field , where freedom ' s flag , unfurl'd , Waved over heads and hearts no power could tame ( Their ' s is the purest , the undying fame ,
That hails the benefactors of a world ); And the bright spark that was enkindled then , From age to age transmitted , shall remain , Pointing the memory to that glorious plain , Where , in the simple form of free-born men . They swell'd too mighty for the galling chain , And spread the flame of freedom through the realm ,
Like the inhabitant of that dread helm , * Who burst its bondage , and stood forth in pride , Mighty and free , and great and glorified . EDWARD RALEIGH MORAN , P . M ., NO . 4 . 9
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
HISTORIC SONNETS . ( No . 7 . ) MAtUUS AT CARTHAGE . He wept—while rememb'ring what Rome had forgot , That his was the arm which had saved her . The spot
That was dew'd with the tears of the outcast , the lone , All the pride and the pomp ofhis glory had known . And who is he , that lonely man , With head down-bent in agon }' , As tho' his soul ' s sad memory ran , Searching 'mid scenes of dark ingratitude ? 'Tis Marius , seated on the ruin'd wall ,
Of what teas Carthage ' s most glorious hall : — Emblem and proof of man ' s incertitude , In his forlorn and wayward fate we see . " Ungrateful Rome ! " the wretched wanderer sigh'd , And , ' mid the relics of his fame , neglected , friendless died
( No . 8 . ) RUNNYMEDE . Who could forget the spirit-stirring clarion Of the fair field , where freedom ' s flag , unfurl'd , Waved over heads and hearts no power could tame ( Their ' s is the purest , the undying fame ,
That hails the benefactors of a world ); And the bright spark that was enkindled then , From age to age transmitted , shall remain , Pointing the memory to that glorious plain , Where , in the simple form of free-born men . They swell'd too mighty for the galling chain , And spread the flame of freedom through the realm ,
Like the inhabitant of that dread helm , * Who burst its bondage , and stood forth in pride , Mighty and free , and great and glorified . EDWARD RALEIGH MORAN , P . M ., NO . 4 . 9