Angol
Excerpt from The House That Was: And Other Poems There is a beauty, after all is said, Unreached forever. Not when music dies, And earth dissolves in rapture of deep sighs; Not by the dance, down glades of moonlight fled; Nor poetry, echoing death-chants to the dead, Is it unveiled: and yet, so near, it lies. The lonely wanderer feels its faun-like eyes, And almost has it - by a turn of head. How like a child grown weary with much play, - How like the ripples on the wind-carved shore, He is, who has his will of life, who goes Arms full of flowers, brimming the stars away. Beauty, ah, beauty, in one wild June rose... I put my poor pen by, and write no more. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
