Lady Geraldine's Courtship.
A ROMANCE OF THE AGE.
A Poet writes to his Friend. Place—A Room in Wycombe Hall.
Time—Late in the evening.
Time—Late in the evening.
Dear my friend and fellow-student, I would lean my spirit o'er you;
Down the purple of this chamber, tears should scarcely run at will!
I am humbled who was humble! Friend,—I bow my head before you!
You should lead me to my peasants!—but their faces are too still.
Down the purple of this chamber, tears should scarcely run at will!
I am humbled who was humble! Friend,—I bow my head before you!
You should lead me to my peasants!—but their faces are too still.
There's a lady—an earl's daughter; she is proud and she is noble;
And she treads the crimson carpet, and she breathes the perfumed air;
And a kingly blood sends glances up her princely eye to trouble,
And the shadow of a monarch's crown, is softened in her hair.
And she treads the crimson carpet, and she breathes the perfumed air;
And a kingly blood sends glances up her princely eye to trouble,
And the shadow of a monarch's crown, is softened in her hair.
She has halls and she has castles, and the resonant steam- eagles
Follow far on the directing of her floating dove-like hand—
With a thundrous vapour trailing, underneath the starry vigils,
So to mark upon the blasted heaven, the measure of her land.
Follow far on the directing of her floating dove-like hand—
With a thundrous vapour trailing, underneath the starry vigils,
So to mark upon the blasted heaven, the measure of her land.
